Beauty in Imperfection
by Samurai Smee
Summary: Tony Stark can hardly keep his thoughts together anymore. After meeting a certain blonde marksman with heartbroken eyes and a killer aim, Tony is determined to figure out Clint's pain as well as the beauty he knows is there. IronHawk pairing.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Beauty in Imperfection

**Chapter One**

"You have that look on your face again," Bruce Banner commented with a weak smile at his lab companion, watching with mild interest as Tony Stark pressed the palms of his hands frustratingly into his eyes and groaned out loud.

"And what look would that be? The 'I-can't-figure-it-out-and-I'm getting-mad-beyond-all-belief' look because I think you might be right, doc," Tony rambled in his usual long-winded and slightly childish way, his irritation showing through with each of his words as he lowered his hands from his face and fixed Bruce with a halfhearted glare.

Bruce just shrugged his shoulders, his smile actually growing across his face as he lowered his gaze back down towards his own documents and designs laid out before him.

"Actually...your expression looked more like you were thinking about someone...someone important that you miss or something," Doctor Banner worded such a sensitive topic as gently as he could without prying too much, such a topic not exactly being his forte' to speak of as it were.

Bruce might be a quiet man by nature, but that did not mean he did not notice the things going on around him.

He could tell that that reason for Stark's recent lack of progress with his research was not due to comprehension of the material...it was that Tony was distracted.

Iron Man quirked his lips to a side, knowing that the good doctor was absolutely right, as he bought himself only a moment to piece together a suitable answer as he took a minute to crack his neck and look around the bright white development room Bruce and he were currently using.

"I guess there's no fooling you after all, Banner..." Tony smirked, acknowledging his companion's keen observation of him with a bit of reluctance as he stood up from his seat and pushed his long, black sleeves up to his elbows again, "...but, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to get some fresh air."

"Alright...I'll be here," Bruce replied with knowing chuckle, already picking up his pen and jotting a few more notes across the designs on his desk as Tony shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and exited the room.

Stark huffed silently, half-way in annoyance and half-way in confusion at his situation, as he strode smoothly down the corridor of the particular research and development floor and towards the balcony, barely lifting his eyes up from the floor as he navigated through such a large space.

"_Who am I kidding...even Banner is noticing how I can't keep my thoughts on work...I'm pretty much useless like this..."_ Tony thought glumly to himself right before he pushed aside the glass doors and stepped out onto the balcony, immediately feeling a little better once the crisp early evening wind swept passed him in a decadent fury that kissed his skin and ruffled his clothes.

Tony breathed easier, resting his hands on the metal railing as he blinked at the setting sun that looked like it could fit inside the palm of his hand at this altitude, the sky stretched out before him looking as if it had been dipped in a plethora of vibrant orange and pink hues.

"_...but...I just can't help it...I tried to in the beginning, when we all first met him; I tried not to let this happen...but now..."_ Tony's thoughts trailed off, even his mind not being able to come up with a solid explanation for why the man of iron could not stop thinking about a certain face, a certain person whom he had not known before but now felt he needed to know more than anything.

Tony sighed out the rest of his air and closed his eyes in order to force some solace back into his life, his emotions in disarray, his thoughts jumbled to a point of exhaustion.

It was not every day that Tony Stark was met with something he could not have, and the self-acclaimed genius billionaire philanthropist playboy did not know what to do about it.

But he would do something.

Tony opened his eyes, his gaze hardened at the beautiful city scenery before him as he looked upon the tops of the surrounding buildings with resolve again, with determination and the will to figure this problem out.

"_...messy blonde hair...sad eyes...so handsome...I will see him again soon...I'll make sure of it,"_ Tony affirmed finally, curling his hands into fists on top of the railing and tapping it twice with his right hand, his chest puffing out a little as he made such a declaration to himself.

"See you soon, Barton," Tony announced to the darkening night sky, watching as those lighter shades of pink melted into a rich ruby which would eventually turn into a solemn black, as Iron Man turned on his heel and headed back inside the tower, feeling rejuvenated and back in touch with reality again; ready to get back to the lab so he could actually get some work done.

X

Meanwhile...

Clint Barton sat with heavily muscled arms resting on the safety rails in front of him, his nearly superhuman eyesight watching as the many S.H.I.E.L.D operatives and construction workers alike walked this way and that, everyone seeming to state and perform orders that had everyone moving in a constant flow of movement below.

Clint blinked at all the goings-on from the workers in order to rebuild their top secret storage facility and research center in case anything at Stark Tower was ever compromised, the marksman watching everything almost with a sense of remorse.

From his bird's eye view of the whole operation, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary for such a job going on, no suspicious activity, no unfamiliar faces, nothing hiding in dark corners, and for that the agent was grateful.

"You alright, Clint?" Nick Fury asked his usually withdrawn but highly skilled agent, his arms folded behind his back as he slowly approached the sitting male.

"Yes, sir...it's just that the last time we were all here, it didn't go so good..." Clint alluded to the time Loki had appeared within their facility, took control of him and the scientist, and then caused the havoc no one had been able to forget about in only the few short weeks that had passed since it ended.

Fury nodded in understanding of his agent's concern.

"How have you been getting along with the other Avengers?" the S.H.I.E.L.D director changed the subject, Fury never being the type of man to draw things out longer than necessary as he took a few more steps towards the marksman, "You all did save the world...one would think you would all be one, big happy family by now."

Clint had to smirk at Fury's off-beat comment before bringing in his gloved hands and then standing up from his spot so he may face his commander directly.

"It's been okay...they are all pretty amazing, sir," Clint replied with a purposefully round-about answer, not entirely answering Nick's real question to him, which he knew already Fury would notice.

"You need to spend more time with your teammates. They all depend on you, so it would be best if you didn't spend all of your time here," Fury cut to the chase, not at all surprising Hawkeye with his logic as even the marksman knew he had been avoiding the rest of them.

Clint lowered his troubled gaze before speaking.

"I did try to kill them, sir...it's a little difficult for me to try to be their best friend," the archer admitted quietly, hating the truth that came from his lips to his superior, hating how he had been caught off guard so badly by Loki and how he had worked against the Avengers for a short time whilst under his control.

Fury smoothly turned around to begin descending the metal staircase, but halted his movements before doing so.

"I don't think it would be difficult at all...once you give it a try, that is," Nick offered warmly from over his leather-clad shoulder before directing his attention back to the steps and began walking away from the blonde-haired agent.

Clint blinked at his superior's back, watching as he glided down the metal steps back down to the many, rushing bodies along the lower levels, and the marksman honestly had to let Fury's words cycle through his mind to process a few times.

"_Fury's right..."_ Barton mentally agreed with the one-eyed director of the agency, frowning his perfectly shaped lips at the thought that immediately struck him of going to Stark Tower where he knew everyone would be.

"_Maybe...maybe just for a few days...to see how it goes,"_ Hawkeye found himself reasoning terms with himself as he mindlessly flexed the fingers on his right hand, feeling the need to shoot a few arrows at the moment as he began walking down the same steps Nick Fury had just a few minutes ago, _"...and if it doesn't work out...if they all really do hate me...then so be it...nothing else I can do then."_

Clint knew he was practically giving himself an ultimatum regarding spending time with the other Avengers, like a flimsy chance at something that he could already practically see the outcome and none of it was particularly fair.

But what other choice did he have?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_Three days later..._

Clint remained silent as he continued to pack various items and clothes into a single, black duffel bag, his beloved bow and extensive arrow collection all in their own containers and had been the first things he had placed in the bag, as the blonde-haired S.H.I.E.L.D agent readied himself to move off of base.

"_Temporary, Barton...this is just a temporary living arrangement,"_ Hawkeye reminded himself sternly as his own way of not letting himself get too depressed over having to leave the military base and head to Stark Tower.

"Although..." Clint spoke aloud quietly to himself as he finished stuffing the last of his training shirts inside the large bag, "...I wouldn't mind catching up with Nat...it's been forever and I am curious to see how she's doing...maybe a few others as well."

And with that, Clint hoisted up the duffel bag onto his back, took a deep, steadying breath, and exited his room to begin heading to meet with the other Avengers.

X

Meanwhile, at Stark Tower...

"This is ludicrous! You're being ridiculous, the idea is ridiculous, and I don's listen to ridiculous things!" Tony Stark fumed loudly, throwing his hands in the air and in the hard-set face of one Steve Rogers who had his arms crossed defiantly over his chest.

"Tony, listen to reason. You should let everyone stay here permanently. We all need to be together. We are a team, aren't we!" Captain America could not suppress his rising anger at the dark-haired billionaire currently pacing in front of him as if his feet could not be kept still.

"It's a liability, Rogers," Stark commented as if the blonde-haired superhuman should have already known as much, Tony cocking his head to one side condescendingly as he continued, "...having one or two stay at a time, cool beans. But all of you...all the time...I mean, come on, I had this tower built in the hopes that it would still be standing six months from now!"

"You can more than afford the costs of having..." Captain continued to argue his point of having all of the Avengers under one roof, but was cut off as JARVIS suddenly chimed in overhead in his pleasant, English voice.

"I beg your pardon, sir, but a new guest has just entered Stark Tower," JARVIS reported dutifully to Tony, both men looking towards a few monitors that popped up and displayed the surveillance footage running of the main foyer area.

The first picture was unclear, but JARVIS spoke again and the shot zoomed in to clarify the image, " It appears to be S.H.I.E.L.D agent Clint Barton and he does not seem to be very pleased, sir."

Tony's eyes widened at the real-time shot of Clint looking around the lavish decor currently making up the foyer and main lobby of the Stark Tower, the archer clad in his usual black vest and pants as he looked this way and that as if not sure which way to go.

"...erm...thank you, JARVIS, I'm going now," Stark replied somewhat awkwardly as he completed forget about his dispute with Steve and began hurrying out of the room and towards the corridor, the main lobby not being too far away from where he was.

"Okay, okay...don't panic...stop panicking..." Iron Man murmured comically to himself as he kept his stride large to cover more ground whilst he walked, his hands currently straightening the cuffs of his sleeves as well as coming up to his mouth so he may quickly check his breath a few times.

Tony rounded a corner which lead him away from the many back rooms of the first floor and towards the more sophisticated and well-decorated primary areas with which he hosted business guests and formal events.

The man of iron had to swallow hard, the butterflies in his stomach suddenly turning vicious and thrashing about rather than softly fluttering, as Tony hastily approached Clint's unsuspecting form.

"_...long legs...strong form...nice big shoulders...focus, Tony, do not blow this...!"_ Tony had to make his brain do a complete one hundred and eighty degree turn so he may speak to the striking male before him with some sort of sense.

Clint started to turn towards Tony who clapped his hands together once and rambled, "Well, hey there, stranger. Haven't seen you here in a while. How's it hanging? Do you want a drink? Need a nap? Maybe a moving target...?"

Tony could have kicked himself for speaking so much so fast to the other male, his frazzled nerves more than obvious to probably everyone else on the first floor.

"Hey Tony. No, thanks...I don't need any of...well, wait...I guess I do need one thing, if you don't mind?" Clint asked a bit timidly, his soft-spoken words and boyishly good looks all but melting Tony's metallic heart slowly within his chest as he stared at the archer's hopelessly puppy-dog eyes.

"Name it," Tony affirmed boldly, needing Clint Barton to know that whatever he needed from Tony, he would get no matter what; that he could trust the dark-haired male even when he felt he could not trust anyone else, "...you tell me what it is you need, and I'll make it happen."

Clint adjusted his grip on his heavy duffel bag down at his side and replied sheepishly, "Would it be alright if I stayed here for a few days? Director Fury wants me to start..."

"Say no more, my dear archer;" Tony cut off Clint's words with a suave wave of his hand as if he did not even need to think over such a proposal, "Of course you can have a room here for as long as you'd like. Mi casa es su casa and all that jazz."

The idea only half-struck the billionaire playboy that this was exactly the same argument he had just been in the middle of discussing with Captain America, but Tony quickly shushed that tiny voice once he saw Clint smile at his words.

Tony's breath left him in a swift rush upon seeing those battle-worn but still devastatingly lovely eyes of Clint's light up upon hearing his immediate acceptance and even zealous agreement to the archer's request, and Stark could not help but feel substantially humbled by such a rare sight.

Tony smiled as well upon seeing Barton perk up the way he did, feeling delighted by it, honored almost, as Tony acknowledged full well that not everyone got to see such a dazzling display from the typically unreadable marksman.

"Good, great, alright...now that that's settled...shall we?" Stark gestured with his hands for Clint to walk beside him, his body angled towards the same corridor he had come down to meet the marksman in the foyer.

"Um, sure...and thanks, man," the agent replied with a shy smirk that he cast to the ground whilst he caught up to Tony so the two of them could navigate back to the owner's personal research and common rooms that were meant for the Avengers and only a strict few others to ever see.

The dark-haired inventor cast the black-clad male a sideways look, watching him walk dutifully next to him, Stark able to see the quiet reserves of raw strength present within the archer's athletic frame and the firm set of his jaws, and Tony smiled a genuine smile at the sight.

"Anytime," Tony provided effortlessly, his hazel eyes still glued onto Clint's striking profile for a moment more before he had to direct his attention ahead and push open the double doors that lead to the Avengers' secluded rooms.

"Alright, so let's see which room I'll be chaining you up in," Tony joked with a playful wink, loving the way that Clint's eyebrows shot up in surprise as soon as he had finished speaking.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Tony smirked at Clint's nervous expression as he leaned over and opened the door for him, allowing Barton to enter the room first.

The archer slowly walked into the bright room before him, his sharp senses taking in just how spacious the room was, which allowed for a large, red and white-decorated bed to occupy the middle of the room without taking up seemingly any space at all. The walls were lined horizontally with honey-colored wood panels, black arm chairs and tables sat off to the left closely located next to another door which the S.H.I.E.L.D agent could already assume would be a matching bathroom.

"Wow..." Clint managed to voice aloud as he stepped further inside the room and gently set down his duffel bag on top of the bed, his eyes trailing over the pristine white lamps on either side of a black snack bar located more towards the head of the bed on the right of the room.

Directly on the other end of the quarters, huge windows made up a great portion of the wall, covered in a sheer white curtain that still let in the natural sunlight and allowed for the city skyline to be visible beyond.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Tony remarked humorously of Hawkeye's exclamation, his hands folded behind his back as he appreciated the view of Clint observing his new surroundings with awe and fondness, "...but I am glad you approve. Say, when you're ready,...no rush or anything, we can go round up the others and have us a little pow-wow. What do you think?"

Clint turned to face Tony who had not moved away from the doorway, and took a deep breath, a bit of unavoidable dread seeping back into his handsome features before he replied.

"You're right. I should check in with everyone else and let them know I'm here," Hawkeye agreed and strode towards Tony, not catching the way Iron Man's gaze lowered down his form for only a split second before raising back up to meet Clint steel-colored eyes.

"You got it...oh, and I guess I should tell you, the room closest to yours is..." Tony began but hushed up the instant he saw the God of Thunder exit his own room, spot them with a great smile splitting his lightly bearded face, and begin jogging to meet up with the both of them.

"...Thor's room," Tony finished, his voice sounding a little deflated as they were met by the tall male who waved excitedly before grabbing Clint in a giant hug that lifted him up the ground.

Tony's jaw dropped as he saw Thor hug the master archer as if he were a doll, the inventor not entirely sure if wanted to help Clint out or just continue to watch such a shocking and admittedly hilarious scene.

"Clint Barton...it has been far too long, my friend," Thor smiled broadly as he set Clint down, Tony noticing immediately that Clint looked a little freaked out but was otherwise smiling as well.

"H-Hey Thor...that was...some greeting, " Clint spoke a little bashfully before looking up directly into Thor's jovial face and continued, "...it's good to be back. I know I was away for long time time, but I'm back now and I'm ready to get to work with all of you."

"..._I can think of some work he can do for me..."_ Tony could not help but think sinisterly to himself, his eyes narrowing at Clint while Thor replied back to him to do his best and then waved at them again before taking his leave.

"That was fun...let us continue on, yes?" Stark announced once Clint heaved a great sigh of relief of no longer being in the towering presence of the mythological god, "...and if he gives you any trouble later on down the road, you only need to let me know..."

Clint turned to face Tony as the two of them navigated through the lengthy corridor and towards the main room at the top of the tower where the rest of the Avengers would be.

"I appreciate you saying that...hopefully, there shouldn't be any trouble, though." Clint responded in kind before the two of them entered the main loft area, thick glass panes lining the parameter of the circular room.

"Well, look who it is..." Bruce Banner grinned up at the two of them entering the room together, the scientist currently sitting on the couch across from Natasha Romanov.

Black Widow quickly whipped her head around, her red curls bouncing around her face, as she took one glance at Hawkeye lifting a hand to them in greeting before she practically jumped off of the couch.

"Barton...you're alright!" the lone female Avenger exclaimed as she and Clint exchanged a quick but warm hug, "...we didn't know where you were."

Clint knew it was not a question she had directed to him, but he felt he should answer anyway.

"Yeah, well...they had me doing a lot of recon over at the new warehouse. Everything over there is about finished, by the way," Clint reported as they all listened, Barton and Natasha going back over to the couches while Tony went to the bar to fix them himself a drink.

"That's good news. So, you'll be staying with us permanently, then?" Natasha asked her old friend now sitting beside her, Bruce also listening as he set his newspaper aside.

Hawkeye hesitated at the inquiry, casting a glance towards Banner as well as Tony off to the side of the room before lowering his gaze to the glass coffee table before them.

"I'm...not sure. Fury told me to expect about three days here because after that, they're sending me on a mission," the S.H.I.E.L.D operative explained with as little detail as possible, already seeing Romanov's expression dimming as Bruce also lowered his eyes as well in understanding.

"Well, let's not jump to any conclusions here," Tony chimed in with a chipper tone from the bar as he replaced the top of the crystal brandy container and picked up his high-ball glass, "...even after your mission, you could still come back...right?"

Barton looked up at Tony, watching as the man of iron took a long sip of the sharp-tasting liquor, an expectant yet patient look on his face while Tony waited for a definite answer.

Clint broke off their eye contact as he brought up a hand to ruffle his short blonde spikes in a gesture too precious for words as the gesture was clearly a nervous habit of his.

"Maybe...I'll just have to see how the mission goes, I guess," Clint answered a bit weakly, but Tony decided to leave it at that for the moment, taking another sip of his drink as he continued to stare at the way Barton displayed his mild discomfort whilst he talked more with Black Widow.

His eye contact was minimal with the redhead as well as Bruce when he would pose his own questions to the archer; even the way he was sitting on the white couch amongst them all showed how he would rather be standing and most probably far away from all of them.

"Hmm..." Tony hummed thoughtfully to himself before tipping the rest of the biting but somehow smooth alcohol down his throat in one final gulp, already setting down the now empty glass on the bar as the famous inventor began devising a plan.

"_He needs to know he is welcome here...he needs to know we're all here for him..."_ Tony Stark contemplated as he watched as Barton kept his hands in his lap, his massive shoulders a bit hunched forward which automatically had his gaze lowered, a sight that made Tony's chest tighten uncomfortably.

"_He needs to know that I want to make him happy...he deserves to be happy..."_ Tony concluded his own thoughts, nearly sealing his plans within his own highly intelligent mind as he saw the way Clint smirked at something Banner had said to him and Romanov.

That settled it.

X

Later that evening...

"Twenty-nine...thir...ty...whew..." Clint watched as another drop of sweat fell from his face and landed on the blue matting below him, the moistened muscles in his arms twisting as he meticulously kept all of his weight on the knuckles of his thumbs and first fingers while performing push-ups, his black-clad legs spread in the air to maintain his balance.

Clint pushed his weight slowly up from the floor which each time, knowing that it took more muscle control and stamina to hold such a position steady rather than perform as many maneuvers as possible, the added leg weights currently strapped to his ankles providing him more weight to counter-balance his push up as well as more pounds that he needed to move.

"...thirty...one...ha..." Barton continued one more time, before the sound of the exercise room door opening and closing drew his attention, Hawkeye looking towards the appropriate direction versus the small collection of wet dots of his fallen beads of sweat on the workout mats.

Polished brown shoes came into his view, the intruder's stance appearing relaxed as he stepped right up to the archer.

"You know...that looks like an awful lot of work. Thank God I'm not the one doing it," Tony Stark joked casually as he watched as Clint gracefully swung his legs down so that he could sit on the mats before the inventor.

"Well...we can't all wear metal suits, you know," Clint replied a little out of breath as he cast his cast up to Tony's smiling face.

Tony nodded his head and tossed Clint a small white towel, "Ouch. That one kind of hurt my only feeling. You might want to be nice to me, though, Barton..."

Clint graciously accepted the towel and pressed it to his face and neck a few times, catching his breath but not standing up just yet.

"Ha! And why is that...?" the blonde-haired male had to ask the inventor who crouched down to be eye level with his companion before he replied.

"Hmm...because I am going to invite you to dinner," Tony replied calmly, resting his arms on his bent knees while he continued to peer his hazel-colored orbs directly into Clint's silver gaze.

Clint stopped applying the towel to his face.

"You...you're...um..." Clint struggled to form a solid reply as he lowered his hands down to his lap, his eyes heartbreakingly hopeful and wide as they regarded a smiling Tony before him.

"Oh, it's nothing fancy really. It's just something I had my chefs whip up because a certain birdy told me it was your favorite," Tony explained more clearly just what his intentions were, still smirking at the way Barton seemed to be completed speechless by the offer.

"...I know it was Nat," Clint rolled his eyes affectionately at his female colleague, before lifting his eyes intently to Tony's delighted gaze, "...did you really make goulash?"

"You bet I did..." Stark replied proudly, loving the way that Clint's hopeful expression turning into a full-blown smile, as Tony playfully placed a hand on the archer's knee and shook it a few times, "...come on, I want you to feel comfortable here. If that means making your favorite food every night, then so be it."

"Really...?" the blonde S.H.I.E.L.D agent shyly replied his next words as he let Tony take him by the hands and help him to stand up, "...but...why...why would you do all that for me...?"

Now standing, Tony was able to look upon Barton's full form which stood just a few inches shorter than his own height, and deciding to lighten the mood even more so with Clint now that he had his guard lowered, Tony affectionately punched the archer in the arm.

"Because I like you, Barton; you're an alright kind of guy," Tony spoke his truth through his jest, observing how such a comment made Clint avert his eyes to the side and grin.

"Alright, so do you need help in the shower or are you good?" the dark-haired inventor joked in earnest, causing Clint to laugh out loud as settled his ash-colored gaze warmly on Tony's cheeky expression as if Stark really needed an answer to such a question.

"No, no...I'm good..." Clint chuckled softly as he spoke, the sound of his rich laugh causing Tony to breathe a smile and thank the greater powers above that this was taking place right now, "...I'll just be a minute."

"Take your time," Tony shooed away his friend with a sweeping wave of both of his hands towards the shower and locker room in the back, "...I'm ready when you're ready."

At his last statement to the archer, Tony winked, meaning quite a lot more with his words than what was only on the surface.

Clint nodded his head before quickly turning around and jogging to the showers, the seasoned S.H.I.E.L.D operative obviously not catching onto Stark's full meaning of waiting for him.

"_... there's time...I've only just started,"_ Tony thought to himself as he watched as the locker room door closed behind the black-clad Avenger.

"There you are..." a stern voice sounded from behind Tony, the sound of which instantly making Iron Man roll his head along with his eyes towards the ceiling in exasperation.

"Oh great...hi Mom," Tony turned to speak to Steve Rogers, a catty smile on his face as he regarded the cynical stare of the tall superhuman soldier.

"Cut the crap, Stark. Where have you been? If I remember correctly, we were in the middle of discussing the very important issue..." Captain attempted to berate Tony but the dark-haired Avenger beat him to it and provided an explanation straight away.

"I was helping a friend," Tony offered with another sarcastic smile as he crossed his arms over his chest, careful not to disturb the arc reactor too much with the action.

"A friend?" Steve repeated with a lift of one of his eyebrows, "Which friend?"

"A good friend. It's Clint Barton, for God's sake," Tony relented in letting Captain America know who he had been actively seeking out and accommodating for the past several hours rather than working or continuing to associate with the others.

Captain shifted his stance slightly, the intensity in his eyes lessening only a degree at the mention of that particular Avenger's name.

"Hawkeye? Is he here now?" Captain continued to press for more information, ignoring the way Tony dropped his hands dramatically to his sides and rolled his eyes again.

"Ugh...yes he is, okay? I'm escorting him to dinner so he's getting ready," Stark explained the situation stiffly, hating the way the aged military man seemed to be measuring his words in his mind.

"And...?" Steve asked simply.

Tony shook his hand and blinked owlishly at the towering male before him, already exhausted with their game of question and answer.

"And what? I've told you everything. Oh, so you want to know about how I will be dining with him, then yes, I will be dining with him. I am personally seeing to his stay here being as awesome as possible," Stark affirmed finally, standing his ground in more ways than one alongside Captain America as he set his jaw hard and dared Rogers to have another question with the look he was giving him.

Once Steve nodded in understanding, Tony pivoted on his heel so he may take his leave of the exercise room and of Captain America's presence.

"No disturbances during our dinner...oh, and I guess I forgot to mention..." Tony chimed back with his usual sharp wit and humor as he was already standing half-way out of the room and was only leaving his head inside to continue to speak to Rogers, "...Clint will be staying with us, as in staying permanently. So uh, good talk the other day, Rog. Okay? Okay. Bye now."

Captain America chuckled to himself and shook his head as the door closed and Tony swiftly exited, knowing that this was Tony's own way of showing him that he had come to his senses about having all of the Avengers stay here and was finally acquiescing with the idea.

All it had taken was for Clint Barton to come to him to remind Tony of the importance of this.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_Twenty minutes later..._

Tony took a deep breath, taking one more minute to fix his blood-red long sleeves that he had rolled up to his elbows, his charcoal-grey pants providing an interesting contrast to such a bold color choice, before Iron Man began striding towards the dining room.

While Clint had been busy getting ready, Tony had taken the liberty of having the long, wooden table removed from the hall and instead replaced with a much more intimate, circular table covered in a pristine white cloth, candles lighting the single table amidst the humongous room.

Barton was already waiting for him, sitting alone at the small table and looking off to his right towards the lit fireplace.

Despite whatever mental preparation Stark had thought he had made beforehand, Tony still felt his breath catch in his throat upon seeing Barton stand up cordially to greet him, the ravenous flames highlighting Clint's gorgeous features and blonde spikes that appeared even messier than usual.

Clint wore a long-sleeved black button-down shirt and clean, black pants, making him look incomprehensibly appealing to the genius billionaire who approached with a charming smile.

"Hi Tony. I have to admit, this isn't what I expected at all. I thought you said nothing fancy...?" Barton addressed Stark with an adorable smirk as both men took their seats, Clint noticing that Tony was choosing to sit relatively close to him rather than on the opposite end of the table.

"This isn't fancy. In fact, this is just one of the many not-fancy meals you can expect while you stay here, my dear archer," Tony remarked wittily, causing Clint's smirk to turn into a smile as he nodded his head in mock-understanding of his companion's logic.

"Let's see, so you just admitted something to me, I guess I should admit something to you now," the inventor continued as a few waiters smoothly slipped next to each male and placed before them a piping hot plate of traditional Hungarian goulash and vegetables, "...that was pretty impressive...your exercises from earlier. It almost looked like you were doing acrobatics or something."

Clint watched as the two servers filled a few glasses on the table, not missing that one drink appeared to be water and another drink appeared to be a deep red wine that smelled divine, before Hawkeye fixed his keen but gentle gaze back on Tony.

"Well...I guess that's because I used to be an acrobat," Clint spoke, lowering his eyes so he may place his white napkin on his lap and pick up his utensils, avoiding Tony's unwavering stare at him, "...I uh...grew up in the circus. In fact, it was there that I learned everything I know...how to string a bow, how to dodge, how to shoot."

Only after he had finished confessing such a substantial portion of his past did Clint raise his gaze back up to Stark, the archer finding that Tony was already chewing his food and resting his chin on the back of his wrist as he continued to drink in every word and mannerism that the S.H.I.E.L.D agent had to offer.

"I guess that would explain it," Tony commented as he focused on his own food for a brief second, preparing another bite of the meal, "...so, does that mean you can flip around in the air and juggle while contorting in all kinds of weird poses and stuff...?"

Tony's question received the desired result as Clint laughed his heartwarming laugh, dabbing at his mouth with his napkin before resetting it on his lap and replying.

"I don't know about the juggling so much, but you do have to have a certain degree of flexibility to make it in the circus," Clint commented lightheartedly, lifting another forkful of the steaming noodles and seasoned beef to his mouth while he watched as Tony seemed to have to process his words.

"Flexible, huh?" Stark repeated with a stretch of his neck, the inventor almost appearing slightly uncomfortable where he sat as the billionaire Avenger could not help but push back a little when given such an opportunity to flirt, "I think I may need to see a demonstration some time."

"Oh..." Clint replied a bit mindlessly, his naturally half-lidded gaze staring at a smirking, eating Tony Stark as the agent clearly hesitated at the obvious provocative suggestion from the dark-haired male.

Tony smiled upon witnessing Barton struggle to come up with a response to his flirting, as he tilted his head towards Clint's own plate of food and said, "...go ahead, eat up; your meal is getting cold."

"Right...sorry..." Clint murmured as he also resumed eating his favorite meal alongside a pleased Stark, his lowered eyes not catching the way Tony was grinning at him from across the table.

Forty minutes later, after their meal had ended on a positive note, the expensive wine having helped calm the marksman's nerves in being able to carry on as usual again, Tony had insisted on escorting Clint back to his room.

"Really...I know where it is. You don't have to go through the trouble," Clint attempted to humbly sway Iron Man's fierce resolve which was to absolutely no avail as the dark-haired male was already shaking his head to indicate the negative to his companion's words.

"Nope, sorry, it's one of my few rules. I have to see my date back to their room after dinner, no questions asked," Tony argued humorously but firmly with the archer, providing no openings for Clint to try to argue back, as Stark already shoved his hands inside his pockets and began walking slowly away from their table and towards the far door.

Clint chuckled but nonetheless complied with Tony's wishes and fell in step next to the eccentric philanthropist while the two of them took their time in striding out of the dining hall and towards the correct corridor that connected to the one which housed his specific room.

"So, I guess I never thanked you properly for dinner, so...thank you, Tony...you made that really special for me. I can't tell you the last time I had goulash," the blonde-haired archer confessed with a genuine smile as he looked directly at Stark beside him whilst they walked.

"Well, it was my pleasure. I can't tell you the last I had wanted to eat goulash, but I definitely did tonight..." Tony had ended his joke with truth, smirking fondly back at Clint as they two of them rounded the last corner and were swiftly approaching the door to Clint's room.

"...there is just one more thing, though..." Tony spoke somewhat seriously, his hands still in his pockets as he directed his gaze out ahead of them, Clint's room coming into view and they both naturally slowed their steps to prolong their time together.

Clint furrowed his eyebrows, casting Tony a puzzled look as he opened his mouth and voiced, "What would that..."

However, Clint's words were cut short as Tony suddenly sprang into unforeseeable action as he quickly freed his hands from his pockets, grabbed onto either of the unsuspecting agent's thick arms and then pulled him in intimately close to his own body.

Barton had gasped upon being handled so firmly so fast, his lips parted and beautiful eyes wide in surprise as he could only observe as Tony trailed his gaze lingeringly down the archer's features, across his throat and back up again, the inventor not saying a word yet.

Carefully, Tony freed a hand from Clint's shoulder and slowly brought it to the side of his face, Barton's striking features an endearing mixture between uncertainty as well as hopeful towards the unknown as he blinked and allowed Stark's fingers to lightly trace the curve of his jaw until he reached his lips and chin.

Clint was holding his breath, his mind in a still-framed halt, as Tony smoothly ran the pads of his fingers across the archer's small chin, Tony's hazel eyes peering over the skin he touched with evident longing, even agony, before he released the marksman from his grasp completely.

"You had a little sauce there...figured I should go ahead and get it for you..." Tony remarked as he lifted the fingers that had trailed so lovingly across Clint's lips to his own and quickly tasted them.

Clint shivered at the erotic sight, his brain not being able to catch up with the many signals currently flooding his systems, before he had to literally shake his head to reign in his thoughts and come up with something to say.

"Um...thanks again for dinner...it was delicious, and...I'll...see you around," Clint spoke a bit brokenly, a bit of want present within his voice as he posed the statement to the other Avenger but almost made it sound like a question needing validated.

Tony cocked his head to one side as he replaced his hands inside his pants pockets again, blinking at the insanely attractive and yet painfully introverted male before him with vibrant emotion in his eyes, a daring smile curving his lips.

"You bet your ass, Barton," Tony spoke comically loudly as he shifted his weight, eyes still holding something significant towards to the soft-spoken archer, "...I'll be seeing you."

And with that, Tony pivoted on his heel, his hazel orbs continuing to pin Clint to his spot, informing the agent without any words at all just what else Tony wanted to say to his companion at the moment, before Stark briskly took his leave.

Clint released the air he had not realized he had been holding upon seeing Tony walk away as he had, the archer's fingertips tingling from not moving in so long.

Barton continued to look down the brightly illuminated corridor that Tony had just taken, lifting a hand to the side of his jaw the inventor had touched with so much burning passion that it had literally stunned the S.H.I.E.L.D operative motionless.

Giving his head a quick shake and dropping his hand, Clint turned to his door to open it.

"...what have I gotten myself into this time...?" the marksman said aloud to himself as he entered his room and silently closed the door behind him, Clint musing to himself as he did so that he had spoken the exact words that he had a few times before whence he had been placed in seemingly impossible situations in dreadful places for the most dangerous of missions.

Yet, here he was.

Clint smirked, still remembering the shock that had riddled through his body the instant the dark-haired male had grabbed him so securely, as if he could not take not doing so for a moment longer and needed to have the quiet archer in his arms right away.

The gentle touch of his hand against his face, as if Hawkeye was something to be treasured and beautiful, contrasted perfectly with the steadfast steel in his gaze as he observed over Barton with meticulous precision.

Tony's open admiration of him was startling as it was invigorating.

Clint could not wait for the next day to begin.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_The following day..._

"Quick jab...good...jab, right, cross...great!" Captain America smiled as he moved to another spot inside the boxing ring, his hands inside thickly padded mitts as he received the skilled blows from Hawkeye.

Clint spared a moment to swipe at his nose with his red boxing glove, his hands still raised high as he kept light on his feet and ready to receive more of the Captain's expert pointers in the sport.

The archer's handsome face dripped sweat while he concentrated, continuing to deliver bone-crushing combinations to the mitts Steve held up for him while they weaved this way and that, the S.H.I.E.L.D agent's hard-earned talent showing through with his brutal force and sharp deliveries that had even the Captain having to take some steps back.

"You're doing really good, Clint! Where did you learn how to fight like this?" Rogers posed the seemingly innocent question, his pleasant face still smiling warmly at the smaller male before him.

The question made Clint lower his gloves, his chest heaving with the deep breaths he took, as he worked his tongue around the inside of his mouth for a second before raising his fists again and resuming his fighting stance.

"You learn a lot when you live on the streets as a kid," Clint answered, his answer vague and yet revealing at the same time and Steve's smile vanished.

"...you...what...?" Captain asked quietly but Clint did not hear him as his punches began harder and more fierce against his target, the marksman not noticing the way Steve now looked over him with concern and sympathy in his eyes whilst he received the hits against his own gloves.

Just then, the door opened to the room, allowing Natasha Romanov and Tony Stark to enter and behold the spectacle before them.

Steve turned around once he noticed Clint relaxing from his stance and looking over his shoulder towards the newcomers, the archer's grey t-shirt almost completely soaked through with sweat as his blonde hair was wet and sticking up in even more directions than usual from his exertion.

"Well, well, well...what have we here? Watson, what is your synopsis of the situation?" Tony joked as he looked to the red-haired female.

Black Widow rolled her eyes at Tony's ridiculous question, as she walked over to the nearby armchairs and took a seat, watching as Tony chose not to sit with her and instead approached the ring.

Clint watched Tony as he tried to regain a normal breathing pattern, the archer noticing that Tony was watching nothing else but him as he walked up to the ring beside Rogers.

"Say, Rogers..." Tony address Captain America, finally peeling his gaze off of Barton's form, as he cocked an eyebrow to the superhuman, "...what say you about letting me in the ring to go a few rounds with him, hm?"

Steve frowned at Tony and took a moment to look back towards his pupil before directing his gaze back on the waiting billionaire.

"I don't know, Tony...we've already been training for a while and it's probably not a good..." Rogers had started to protest but everyone hushed up the moment they heard Clint speak.

"It's alright. I don't mind..." Clint spoke simply as he nodded towards Captain, already seeing the worry in Steve's face as he nodded as well to the request and then stepped out of the ring.

Tony clapped Rogers on the back as he took his leave of the area and joined the lone female Avenger at the chairs off to the side, as Stark nimbly slipped inside the boxing ring, cocky smirk in place.

"I should warn you, I'm pretty good..." Tony chided playfully as he rolled up his sleeves and kicked off his shoes, his eyes trained hard on Barton whilst he circled the standing S.H.I.E.L.D agent and moved towards the pair of blue boxing gloves hanging off of the corner post.

Clint did not seem put off by Stark's words as he merely gave his arms a good shake and then punched his gloved fists together.

"Let's see what you got then," Hawkeye challenged the dark-haired male, assuming his fighting stance and bouncing on his toes while he waited for Tony to approach.

Tony laughed as he swung his arms in a few, large circles to stretch out his shoulders before slipping into a classic boxing stance as well, already moving closer to Barton with his fists raised high.

"I don't like this," Captain spoke to Natasha by his side as the two of them watched the match, Steve appearing troubled while the red-haired female was anything but, "...you know how competitive Tony gets...what if he really hurts Clint?"

Natasha smiled and directed her gaze towards the superhuman.

"Just watch. I think you'll be surprised," Romanov spoke warmly of her current S.H.I.E.L.D colleague and personal friend as she nodded her head back towards the ring where the two men were squaring off,"...Clint might not have a lot to say most of the time...and he's always hard on himself...but there's one thing about him that I'm positive will win the match."

Steve blinked at Black Widow, a bit taken aback as well as deeply touched by how much she had to say about Clint Barton after all.

"What's that?" Rogers pressed for more information from the lady by his side.

Natasha looked back to Steve, her gaze hardened and somber before she finished her thought to him.

Tony and Clint had already thrown a few jabs at one another to feel the other opponent out, to see how he reacts, when he reacts, and the limits of their own reach while they were constantly moving about.

Clint had easily dodged Tony's jabs and cross punches to him, the archer appearing a little lighter on his feet and quicker to respond when danger came his way.

Tony's punches, however, clearly had more force behind them, more raw strength, to which Barton immediately took notice and adapted his own actions.

"You know...you're not so bad either, pretty boy..." Tony commented in good spirits as he effectively blocked another set of blows from Barton, side-stepping but only to be evenly matched with the agent again, "...let's see if you can take this, though."

Stark then delivered another brutal combination, jabbing twice at Clint's chin before throwing a hard right hook punch, a punch that would have had anyone seeing stars in a matter of moments.

Tony gasped as he punched air, having to redirect his gaze to see Clint who had dashed to his blind spot faster than Tony had seen anyone move before.

"He's the strongest person I know," Natasha affirmed to Captain America, meaning something else entirely than just the measure of Clint Barton's physical strength and she knew that Steve would know that right away.

Clint exhaled as he struck Tony's ribs twice from his new angle, not hesitating before delivering a powerful right cross across Stark's jaw that sent the billionaire playboy spinning.

"Ow...oh ow...ugh..." Tony complained comically as he cradled his jaw with his gloved hand and blinked his eyes owlishly for a second while he regained his footing.

Rogers stood up.

"Told you," Natasha smiled.

"Impressive, agent Barton..." Stark complimented as he gave his head one more shake before raising his fists and hunching his shoulders so they could continue, Iron Man having not had enough of his blonde-haired obsession just yet, "...I like it when they play hard to get...makes more of a challenge."

Clint rolled his eyes and raised up his gloves as well.

"I guess you can stop going easy on me now" Clint joked, much to Tony's delight as both men chuckled as they slowly moved towards each other again.

Tony's jab connected to Clint's cheek, followed by a closely timed shot Clint's abdomen with a body shot.

Barton grit his teeth as he received such powerful, well-placed blows, but the archer stunned the several onlookers with his fast recovery, the blonde-haired male already pushing forward to administer a few punches of his own.

Stark was able to knock away one of Barton's fists, but did not have enough force to match the second hook that came his way as it rocked across Tony's other cheek.

Iron Man used his momentum to completely turn around in his place while he recovered, now facing Clint's flank as he lunged forward, tackling Hawkeye to the floor in a move clearly not allowed in a normal boxing match.

"Shit...!" Clint exclaimed as he was suddenly forced down off of his feet and onto his back, "...that's cheating...!"

"Yeah, well...obviously fighting squeaky-clean with you does not work and I am an opportunist at heart," Tony answered with his bizarre logic as he simply took the two jabs to his face that Clint pounded out before the eccentric inventor wrestled Barton's hands up above his head.

Clint looked towards his pinned wrists before fixing Tony with a pointed frown upon seeing the pleased smile that Stark now wore as he remained straddling Hawkeye's abdomen, keeping him still with his weight and grip.

"Do you admit certain defeat, my dear archer?" Tony asked sweetly, causing Clint's frown to deepen before the blonde licked his lips in thought, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Stark.

Then, in an expert grappling move that totally caught Stark off-guard, Clint freed his legs and wrapped them around Tony's torso, flipping their positions that had the dark-haired male lying flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him.

Hawkeye smiled a breathless and absolutely charming smile down at Tony Stark as he now sat on the inventor's stomach, the archer relaxing his arms and shoulder and planted his feet on the floor while he looked over Tony's shocked expression.

"I will never concede defeat," Clint laughed in good humor, watching as Tony shook his head to possibly get back in touch with reality after being flipped so quickly.

"You're right...I like this way much better," Tony commented cheekily, as he placed his blue boxing gloves on either of Clint's thighs by his sides, the billionaire not being shy at all as he openly gazed in admiration at the blonde-haired male now sitting on top of him.

"I have a feeling this was on purpose...that somehow you planned for this to happen," Clint commented with pseudo-cynicism in his naturally baritone voice as he narrowed his eyes at Tony as if he had just solved some mystery.

"Hmm...what can I say..." Tony shrugged his shoulders, letting Barton know that such an answer was no challenge for him to admit whatsoever, "...when I see something I like, I just go for it."

Clint's smile faded, his gaze sliding off to one side as he cleared his throat and started to stand up, ignoring Stark's child-like pouting expressions.

Their blue and red boxing gloves wrapping around one another, Hawkey helped Tony up from the floor, still keeping his gaze lowered and away from Iron Man's pressing, hazel orbs that stared so closely at him.

"Listen, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, especially around me, so if I said something that..." Tony began to take a different approach in speaking with the solemn, soft-spoken archer, but the latter male beat him to it and interrupted with words of his own.

"No, no, I um...you've been nothing but kind to me since I first walked in here," Clint immediately waved off Tony's apology with rushed words and worried eyes that finally looked up and peered into Stark's patient gaze, "...it's just...I'm definitely not...used to being treated like this, and I..."

Tony stepped forward, Clint's hands hurrying to remove the boxing gloves but stopped the moment that the archer felt Stark graze the tips of his fingers across his wrist, "I would love to show you the ropes sometime, then. And on a personal note, maybe you should just...go for some things, too, Clint. I always knew I could be a role model to someone..."

"But..." Clint expression was heartbroken, showing of his uncertainty and hardship even saying such words to the dark-haired male standing so close before him and trying to help him feel better, "...I...don't like men."

Barton's words almost sounded like a question and Stark lowered his eyes and allowed his lips to curve into a knowing smirk before he replied.

"I don't either," Tony shrugged non-nonchalantly, earning a slightly puzzled look from the handsome blonde whilst Hawkeye continued to listen to everything the inventor had to say to him, "...I just like you."

"But...why? I mean...you could have anyone...anyone in the world, so why would you..." the archer questioned, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Tony Stark was admitting so serenely that he wanted him, wanted to be with him.

"Not everyone in the world has a right hook like you do," Tony winked at the S.H.I.E.L.D agent, but quickly followed up with a more serious point, "...they don't need me like you do. I feel needed when I'm with you, like you could depend on me and that I need to be there for you...and that feels pretty good."

Clint lowered his gaze shyly upon hearing Tony's words, knowing just how true they were.

"Aw, chin up," Iron Man chimed merrily to Barton, slinging his boxing gloves over the side of the ring as he fixed a still troubled Clint with a pointed but not harsh expression, "...you have my word that I won't do anything you don't want me to. Contrary to popular belief, I can be a good boy from time to time. Agreed? Contract signed? Everyone's happy? Great."

Clint had to chuckle at the way Tony just wrapped all of his conversations up with a big red bow before the genius billionaire smiled a devilishly handsome smile at him before stepping out of the boxing ring and out of the exercise room, leaving the agent to his thoughts and the offer that Tony had basically just placed before him.

Barton lifted a hand to his hair and ruffled through his short, blonde locks, Tony's words to him still whirling around in his mind and making him hesitate in simply walking away, Clint's eyes admittedly looking towards the same path Iron Man had just taken in navigating out of the room.

So absorbed in his own thoughts, the marksman was not even aware of the narrowed pair of eyes directed his way, the owner of which having witnessed the whole exchange between the archer and the inventor, not approving.

Hawkeye lowered his arm, a small breath leaving his lungs, before he carefully ducked out of the boxing area and marched towards the doors as well.

Clint knew he had not made any decisions just yet; he could not; but the veteran S.H.I.E.L.D operative knew that in times of uncertainty, it was best to lay low, to continue to observe, to wait for an opportunity.

Tony's words fascinated him, his ideas even more so, and the very notion that the notoriously flippant and outspoken Iron Man was interested in someone like him was almost beyond Barton's comprehension...and yet...

All the same, the master archer could not help but feel flattered, giddy even, which did nothing to suppress the rampaging butterflies he received within his stomach each time he was was under that lively hazel gaze of the world famous inventor.

"_...they don't need me like you do. I feel needed when I'm with you, like you could depend on me and that I need to be there for you...and that feels pretty good."_

Clint blushed a pale pink upon recalling Stark's words to him, still able to remember the keenly placed gravity that had been present with Tony's tone and the way he had seemed so critically serious while conveying such a message to him.

Hawkeye rounded another corner on his way back to his room, a small smile gracing his lips while he approached the door.

Meanwhile, quite a distance behind him, a figure watched as Clint entered his room and closed the door before turning around in his place and storming angrily down the corridor.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

_The next day..._

Tony rounded the corner and entered the lounge area of the top room of the Stark Tower, smirking a bit as he saw Clint, Natasha, and Bruce chatting warmly and watching television at the couches.

Barton and Romanov laughed at something Banner had said but all eyes turned to Stark as he went straight to the decadent bar, Tony's eyes on Clint before he spoke to them all.

"No, no...don't mind me. I'm just getting a drink before my meeting...so just...yeah, go on...keep talking..." Iron Man announced as he rummaged through the built-in lower cabinet within in the bar until he found the particular liquor that he wanted, "...oh, and Clint, front and center, if you don't mind, good sir. Thank you."

Clint first looked back towards Natasha and Bruce, the scientist already nodding at the archer to do as he was told.

Tony smiled at the image of Clint acquiescing to his wishes and standing up from the couch as he finished pouring his perfectly aged scotch, the wealthy inventor watching the blonde with a glint in his hazel eyes as Barton walked over to him at the bar.

"What's up, Tony? What do you need?" Clint asked as he smoothed his palms across his pants pockets, drawing nearer to Stark as the latter appeared to be thinking over something as he picked up his glass of scotch.

"Well, to be honest with you..." Tony preambled before taking a long sip of his malt liquor, letting the fiery amber liquid wash over his senses and slide down his throat before he lowered the crystal glass and swirled the drink around a few times.

"What? What is it...?" Barton pressed for Tony to continue, but was taken off guard once more by the eccentric brunette who moved far too suddenly for Clint to fully anticipate the motion.

Iron Man grabbed Clint's wrist and yanked him forward, causing the men to bump into each other, as Tony placed a quick kiss to the corner of the archer's mouth.

"Now don't be weird about it...but that is all I wanted," Tony concluded calmly as he released Hawkeye from his hold and downed the last of his liquor, knowing full well that he had basically just tricked Clint.

"So, I'll see you later? Tonight, right? What do you want for dinner?" Stark began questioning the shocked marksman, fixing his collar and sleeves of his lavender dress shirt as he watched as Clint pursed his lips and fixed Tony with his naturally sleepy-looking gaze.

"I can't believe you sometimes;" Clint chuckled softly as he slowly shook his head and latched his hands together behind his back and relaxed his stance, "...yeah, dinner tonight sounds good. You know I'm leaving tomorrow, right?"

"Shh shh shh...we're not talking about that," Tony commented humorously with a wag of his pointer finger towards the archer, "...so, I'll definitely see you later, alright?"

Clint smiled, admittedly feeling quite humbled that Tony did not like the fact that he would be setting out on his mission the following day and separating them after all this time they had spent together.

"Yeah...I'd like that," Hawkeye agreed effortlessly, feeling solid in his decision and secretly pleased whence he saw Iron Man return his smile with a grander one of his own.

"Awesome! Alrighty then...I'm already late for the meeting, so I guess Dr. Banner..." Tony spoke loud enough for everyone in the large room to hear, turning his gaze towards Bruce currently sitting on the long white sofa and continuing to speak to Natasha, "...you're stuck babysitting."

Bruce mock-laughed at Tony's joke from across the room, giving Stark and Barton a little wave of his hand to acknowledge his task and wish Tony well with his work.

Satisfied, Tony turned back to Clint, a cheeky smirk still in place as he watched as the archer had his heavily-muscled arms crossed over his chest and took a noticeable step backwards.

"Aw, no good-bye kiss...? I promise I won't steal the next one..." Stark pouted at the stone-faced S.H.I.E.L.D agent, comically batting his eyelashes at Clint who rolled his eyes at the inventor's cartoonish antics.

"Will you just get going to your meeting already..?" the blonde-haired marksman argued reasonably but without any trace of malice in his voice at all, truthfully finding Tony's mannerisms and quirks refreshing and quite magnetic as the master archer had long-since recognized that he had never known anyone like the man of iron before.

X

Three hours later...

Tony knew he was making a ridiculous expression since he could feel his tired eyes wanting to close whilst the board meeting with Stark Industries continued.

Stark swiveled around a few times in his leather chair, his hands folded in his lap as the few other board members continued to talk business logistics and numbers about which the company heir could not have cared less.

"_Blue-grey eyes that need to sparkle...a small smile, a melancholy smile that still shows how much he's thinking about something else...beautiful really...all of that going for him but he's still so reserved and..."_ Iron Man continued to think somberly to himself instead of paying attention to the meeting details and outlined papers of the presentation before him.

"What is you take on all this, Mr. Stark?" one of the chairmen asked the inventor, his aged voice carrying within the elongated room that housed the formal board meetings.

All eyes were on Tony as he briefly licked the roof of his mouth while he completed another turn in his chair before addressing each one of them.

"Uh, what do I think? I think the company is doing fine. I think we've been making huge headway in our research, resources have remained stable, and everyone has been doing a great job," Tony answered seamlessly, not missing a beat as he propped his joined hands on top of the large wooden table and looked every board member in the eye.

Tony stood up from his chair and placed one hand in his suit pants pocket prior to continuing.

"Stark Industries has continued to grow in assets as well as overall company equity. The value of shares has skyrocketed since we have rebuilt, and personally, gentlemen, I don't see anything to worry about," the young, dark-haired Avenger provided effortlessly as he slowly stepped away from his chair and down one length of the room, making sure to gauge the expressions of whom he was addressing.

"It is true," another aged chairman chimed in while Tony continued to walk around the table, "our stock prices have increased exponentially ever since the Loki incident. A lot of people are putting their trust back into Stark."

Tony smiled and then pivoted his step so that he may face the table again.

"And that's exactly what we want," the man of iron affirmed, looking around the room and seeing many heads nodding to indicate their agreement.

"Let us continue to move forward with our technology and ideas, gentlemen. There's no time like the present to make your mark in this world and have everyone see it..." Tony concluded, placing his hands on the back of one of the leather chairs before him, his thoughts admittedly still lingering on a certain blonde-haired archer while he spoke such a declaration, "...so let's do what we can to make this happen."

X

A little while later, inside another part of Stark Tower...

"Hey there, Clint...can I talk to you for a moment?" Steve Rogers announced his presence as he approached the archer currently performing pull-ups within the exercise facility.

"Oh...hi Steve...hang on..." Clint spoke despite being a little out of breath as he finished his last pull-up before dropping down from the bar, his black T-shirt almost nearly soaked through with sweat as his handsome face glistened from the moisture as well.

"Getting in some extra work-outs before..." Steve attempted to start speaking comfortably and conversationally with Barton but hushed up the instant he watched as the shorter male lifted up the front of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, revealing his tanned, toned flesh that looked too perfectly crafted for words, "...before your um...your uh..."

Clint lowered his shirt, a little confused as to why he had just heard Steve trail off the way he had.

"You mean my mission tomorrow? Yeah, I suppose I am. It's sort of a nervous habit, I guess," Hawkeye explained his work-out regime to Captain America, not paying too much attention to the way Rogers shifted his stance and cleared his throat as he continued to watch over the the smaller blonde.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Clint asked the soldier before him, casting his lovely gaze up to the taller male.

Steve lowered his gaze for a moment in thought before directing his calm, chocolate brown orbs directly towards Clint's curious features, his jaw setting firmly and his resolve returning to voice his concerns to the S.H.I.E.L.D agent.

"We've all noticed that Tony seems to be spending quite a lot of time with you lately," Steve began carefully, referencing the other Avengers in the group as he observed how Clint gradually appeared to be a little more on edge the more he spoke, "...and...we just want to make sure that you're alright and..."

"What is that supposed to mean? Why wouldn't I be alright?" Barton asked fairly of the superhuman in front of him, taking another step away from the uneven bars he he had be previously using as he and the Captain continued to speak to one another.

"I'm no fool. I know what kind of man Tony is," Rogers' voice was dangerously serious as took a step closer to Clint as he clarified, his brown eyes still peering down at the archer, showing just how somber as well as worried he was about such a topic, "...he uses people, Clint. He gets what he wants out of them and then throws them away."

Barton blinked, hesitating upon hearing such a negative statement from the Captain.

"And...you think that's what he plans to...I mean..." Clint clearly had a difficult time stating such a sentence as he crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his eyes from Steve's commanding stare.

"I don't want to see you get hurt, Clint," the taller Avenger softened his tone upon seeing Barton's troubled expression, Rogers taking another step closer until he was only a few small inches away from the master archer, "...I couldn't handle it if I saw you hurting because of him."

Clint looked up upon noticing that Steve had moved intimately closer to him, gasping silently when Steve lifted a hand to his brow and moved some of his fallen spikes away from his eyes.

The S.H.I.E.L.D agent stared wide-eyed at Rogers, words not finding him even though his mind raced with how wrong it felt to be touched like that by the super soldier, as he unconsciously lowered his arms to his sides.

"Promise me...promise me you won't let Tony get too close...because I know what will happen, Clint..." Steve spoke again, his voice kept low and personal as he lightly trailed his fingers down either of the archer's arms, "...and I think you know it, too."

Clint swallowed hard, his lips parting as he tried to force his brain to develop some sort of reply, something he could say to Captain America to get him to take his hands off of him and never try it again.

"I...uh..." Hawkeye whispered, hating how his voice was failing him, his mind even more so, as he was hyper-aware of Steve's fingers still running up and down his biceps in a gesture that would have been comforting if Clint had not been able to see right through the action, Barton looking at Rogers' left elbow as he simply could not face the Captain.

"Alright, show's over...I think I've seen enough..." spoke an upbeat but still serious voice from across the room, catching both of their attention as Steve dropped his hands from Clint's arms so he may turn to face the new-comer.

Tony was already walking in the room, his black suit from his meeting barely rustling with his smooth movements as he approached the two of them, Iron Man not missing the way Clint immediately looked relieved to see him.

"Rogers..." the inventor addressed Captain America with a crack of his neck, disdain more than present in his clipped tone to the taller male.

"Stark," Steve replied, both males facing each other, the superhuman with a disproving look on his face while Tony returned it with a critical one of his own.

"So, what were you guys talking about? Can I get in on it? Huh? What's so interesting that I can't know about?" Stark questioned Steve rhetorically, the billionaire having heard plenty to know what the Captain had spoken to Hawkeye.

"Do you really want to know? Because I'll tell you exactly what what was said," Rogers replied coolly, Clint noticing that Steve had curled his hands into fists at his sides while he continued to square off with Stark.

"Hold on, guys. I think we all need to walk away from this and take a breath," Barton suggested gravely from behind Captain America, his grey eyes pleading with Tony from over Steve's shoulder to let this go.

"Now, now...let's not be rude to the man. Go ahead and speak, then, Captain," Iron Man offered again to the soldier in front of him, the dark-haired male not at all bothered by the way Steve's eyes were narrowed and his humongous arms looked ready to fly into action without a moment's notice.

"I don't like the way you've been luring Clint into your trap," Steve spoke solidly to Tony, "...everyone knows how you just use people. You don't really care about him. You just care about getting what you want out of him and then leaving him out to dry."

From behind Captain America, Barton could not help but cast his worried expression to Stark, needing to hear Tony's answer, needing to know exactly what he would say to such an important issue that had admittedly crossed Clint's mind before.

"What I'm really hearing are three things here, Rogers," Tony began calmly, his hands still in his pants pockets as he regarded the towering blonde male before him, "...the first thing is yes, I do really like Clint. I like being with him and getting to know him and having him get to know the real me..."

Tony looked passed Steve and cast his warm hazel gaze into Clint's pleasantly surprised features, the man of iron smirking at the shy happiness that he saw there.

"Secondly," Tony turned his hardened gaze back towards Rogers who looked even angrier than before, "...it's clear to me that you are insanely jealous of this fact, which, and this is my last point, really makes this none of your business."

Clint smiled and lowered his gaze for a moment before looking back up to Tony who was still peering sternly at the taller blonde with a challenge in his eyes.

"So if you don't mind, I think I'm going to steal Barton and discuss this with him somewhere a little more private," Stark wrapped up his rebuttal, Hawkeye already stepping to Tony's side.

Steve did not budge and neither did Tony, their tension running high to which Barton immediately took notice.

"Come on, Tony...let's go...time to take a break," the archer placed a hand on Tony's arm, casting one more glance over his shoulder towards the fuming Captain, before setting his keen gaze directly into Tony's hazel orbs that were so close to his own.

The dark-haired male took a deep breath and turned his head towards Clint, looking briefly at where Barton's hand rested along his arm.

"Lead the way," Tony spoke softly to Clint, smiling fondly as the two of them turned around and walked alongside each other out of the exercise room and down the connecting corridor.

Steve sighed upon seeing them leave together, strode over to the closest punching bag, and slammed his fist into the solid weight, sending the heavy bag flying off of its chain and into the farthest wall.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"Did you mean what you said...?" Clint asked Tony beside him as they both rounded the next corner of the maze-like hallways and proceeded to the one room neither one of them had suggested aloud but somehow had agreed on nonetheless, "...when you said you like spending time with me...?"

Stark fixed his companion with a serious stare as he reached forward and opened the door.

"I might have misspoken...I love spending time with you, Clint," Iron Man affirmed with a smirk as he and the S.H.I.E.L.D agent entered Tony's personal chambers.

The lights were kept dimmed, the approaching evening being more than welcome in its solace and comfort that it offered both of the men as they walked further into the extravagantly decorated rooms.

Clint smiled and ducked his head down as he went right over to the enormous bed that was just beyond the adjacent front rooms that allowed for leather armchairs and a round glass coffee table to provide a comfortable setting in between the built-in kitchenette on the right and the small study on the left.

"Can I make you a drink?" Tony asked the master archer as he navigated to the bar and dropped off his suit jacket, watching with a pleased grin as Clint flopped down upon the crisp sheet and plump pillows adorning his bed.

"No thanks..." Barton answered as he draped an arm across his eyes, obviously exhausted from both his physical exercise and the drama that had transpired between himself and Steve Rogers.

Tony nodded as he finished pouring his gin martini, adding two olives directly into the alcohol, as he lifted the glass off of the bar and walked over to the resting marksman, the latter male's black-clad body stretched out across the expansive mattress and ruffling the silk sheets.

Stark stopped at the edge of the bed, knowing that Clint would know that he was there, as he took his time and sipped at the fiery smooth cocktail and deliberately looked over Barton's perfect form laid out so enticingly before him.

"What are you looking at...?" Hawkeye asked from underneath his arm, his words comically muffled and Tony chuckled as he swallowed another sip of gin and vermouth.

"Something beautiful..." the man of iron answered without hesitation, already sliding onto the mattress next to Clint and resting his back against the cushioned headboard, Barton continuing to lie by his side.

"No offense, but I think you're a little crazy," Clint spoke in his usual dry wit, Tony pursing his lips as if he needed to think over such an accusation before the Avenger philanthropist nodded his head in agreement.

"You're probably right...but you know how it is with us eccentric billionaires with nothing better to do..." Tony joked as he sipped more of his martini and looked over the resting form lying next to him, "...come here."

Hawkeye lazily rolled over and snuggled closer into Tony's side, the dark-haired male able to drape his arm across Clint's shoulders as they continued to relax.

"...hungry...?" Iron Man asked with satin lacing his voice down to the kindhearted blonde male beside him, as he fished out one of the olives from his empty glass and brought it down to the archer's lips.

Tony smirked as he slowly ran the delicate skin of the green olive along Clint's bottom lip until the marksman opened his mouth to receive it.

Stark swallowed hard as he gently pushed the tiny olive into Barton's mouth, peering intently at the way Clint sensuously licked his lips.

"Fucking hell, Clint...you're killing me here," the man of iron whispered, his solemn words making Clint open his eyes and look up into Tony's serious, pleading features.

"...then kiss me," the veteran S.H.I.E.L.D operative answered Tony's words of distress with little effort, stunning the inventor as Tony had to give his head a small shake to make sure he had heard correctly.

"...I thought you didn't like men...?" Tony repeated Clint's previous words to him with a cock of his head, already setting his martini glass down upon the nightstand next to his side of the bed.

The blonde-haired agent waited as the genius inventor slid to lie fully down next to him, both of them facing one another as Clint licked his lips in thought and then answered.

"I don't...I just like you," Clint echoed the words Tony had spoken to him that day as well.

Tony smiled, appreciating their exchange and the soft sincerity behind it, and carefully brought a hand to the side of Clint's handsome face.

Stark's hazel eyes roamed over Barton's serene expression, feeling pulled in by this moment, drawn even further into those silver-spun eyes of his that held his gaze so firmly, as Tony slid his fingers across Clint's cheeks until he could cradle his jaw against his palm.

Barton had closed his eyes upon being first touched by Tony, his breath leaving him in a pleasant sigh of relief as he opened his eyes and found Stark's lovely stare upon him, the inventor's touches being forever gentle with him and providing a comforting weight for the archer to cherish.

Clint closed his eyes again as Tony drew even nearer, closing the remaining distance between them as the dark-haired male brushed their lips together, asking for permission, needing to know that this was alright.

In response, the marksman scooted closer and gingerly seized the fabric of Tony's pale lavender dress shirt in his fingers, letting the older man know that the gesture was more than welcome and that he did not want Tony to go anywhere.

Their lips pressed together chastely, Clint pulling a little harder on Iron's Man's shirt as Tony rubbed the pad of his thumb across Barton's high cheekbone.

Their single kiss easily transformed into another, this one just as slow, just as sensual; Tony's mindful caresses of Clint's soft skin showing of his appreciation and underlying emotion that raced through the inventor's veins upon finally being able to taste what he had craved for so long.

Clint hummed quietly against the other Avenger's mouth, their lips moving together in excruciating harmony, as Stark trailed his fingers down the archer's cheek until he could just touch his fingertips to Clint's small chin.

Their kiss ended mutually; Clint opened his eyes while Tony's remained closed, still touching the face of his personified obsession before him, as Stark briefly shifted his head against the pillow.

Tony opened his eyes and grinned his familiar, sideways grin.

"Mmm...better than I imagined..." Iron Man purred contently, touching Clint's lips with his fingers and watching as he made them gently move, immediately missing the sensation of having them against his own lips and the purely satisfying revelation that it made sweep through him.

Barton smirked and lowered his eyes from the flattery of Stark's words to him.

Tony moved in, capturing Clint's lips with his own in a commanding kiss that made the archer shiver in pleasure, as Iron Man grasped Clint's black shirt in both of his hands and then rolled to lie on top of him.

Clint gasped from the maneuver, breaking off their kiss, as Tony smoothed his hands down the front of the S.H.I.E.L.D agent's toned chest and abdomen, Barton having to spread his legs a bit to make room for the billionaire's taller frame.

Their lips met again, hungrier this time, as Stark slipped his hands underneath Clint's shirt and pawed at the firm muscles that adorned the archer's stomach, growling against the younger male's mouth with raw need sparking in white-hot flames that tore through him.

Hawkeye reached his hands up to take hold of each of Tony's biceps, squeezing the solid muscles hard as he let Stark part his lips with his own and then slide his tongue inside of his willing, moist mouth.

Iron Man groaned low in his throat, unable to help the possessive action of scratching his nails down Clint's abdomen as he continued to kiss his lover slowly, taking his time in tasting each corner of Clint's sweet mouth that had the agent trembling in pleasure beneath him.

The dark-haired male smirked cockily at Clint's addictive reactions to his touches, loving each breathy sigh and barely contained moan than came from the typically stoic archer as Tony swept his tongue against Clint's own muscle with measured movements that he knew would drive the other crazy.

Stark quickly flicked the tip of Barton's tongue with his own before closing his lips around the velvet-soft muscle, sucking lightly and humming in purely erotic satisfaction of the gesture as Stark opened his eyes to look upon the blonde-haired agent in his bed.

Clint purred at the suggestive ministration as the eccentric genius continued to lave at his tongue with his own, his hands trailing down Tony's arms until they simply fell away from the other man, the marksman placing his hands up over his head amongst the many, feather-stuffed pillows there.

The inventor released Barton's tongue and kissed his lips soundly, Tony placing his hands by either of Clint's shoulders on the bed as he lifted his chest off of the other man's form and merely took a moment to peer his wise, hazel gaze down upon his attractive archer.

Clint had his pink lips parted and his breath leaving him in heavy pants; the veteran agent looking impossibly sexy as he returned Tony's gaze with his naturally smoky, half-lidded stare.

Stark blinked at the alluring sight, finding it everything he wanted it to be as well as his words escaping him before his brain had a chance to catch up.

"Let me take care of you...let me be the one who you come to at the end of the day...I want to be that person for you, Clint," Tony offered in a low voice for only his lover to hear, watching as a tired, drained Clint Barton closed his eyes in serenity and took a deep breath.

The genius heir knew that the master archer had to have been exhausted and leaned down to press a loving kiss to his brow, Tony not expecting an answer to his ramblings just yet from Barton as he watched him rest for a moment more.

"...okay..." Clint whispered his agreement to Tony's proposal.

Tony felt a sharp but welcomed jolt speed through him upon hearing Clint's single spoken word that confirmed every one of his hopes in one fell swoop, as the man of iron felt the tension in his shoulders disappear as he pressed another kiss to Barton's temple, resting the bridge of his nose in Clint's short blonde hair.

"Good...I'll let you get some sleep now before your big day tomorrow..." Tony acquiesced happily, carefully disentangled his legs from Clint's so he may slide off of the bed without disturbing the already sleeping archer.

Iron Man stopped his movements upon standing up from the bed, finding himself gazing at Clint once again as the male with the features of an angel and a heart of gold slept peacefully atop his sheets, one of his hands resting on his steadily rising chest while the other was stretched out to his side.

Barton looked surreal to the wealthy philanthropist, as if something impossible or not of this world which his eyes could still somehow see as if plain as day.

But here he was.

And he had agreed to Tony's words.

His eyes still trained intently on the slumbering male currently occupying his bed, Tony licked his lips pensively and tilted his head to one side before speaking aloud.

"JARVIS..." Tony called loud enough for the super-intelligent program to hear but not so loud as to rouse his snoozing prize.

"Yes, sir?" JARVIS responded, ever alert and ready to receive Stark's every demand as a few blue data screens materialized from seemingly thin air for Tony to check as he pleased.

The inventor narrowed his gaze before turning around in his spot and walking back towards the bar, his mind made up of precisely what he and JARVIS needed to start working on and investigating as soon as possible.

"I need you to hack into S.H.I.E.L.D's top secret files again..." the inventor instructed the artificial intelligence program calmly as he stopped at the bar and read over the labels of the many bottles that lined the surface.

"It's the usual today, then sir? And what shall I search for exactly?" JARVIS replied to Stark's directives, Tony continuing to look over the fine liquors he had reserved specially for his personal chambers, before he suddenly directed his piercing hazel gaze back on the sleeping, peaceful form lying atop his bed across the room.

Clint looked so handsome as he slept soundly, easily finding comfort in Tony's bed as he had not moved from when Tony had left him a few moments ago.

Tony Stark could still feel the mind-blowing sensations of having his tongue wrapped around Clint's tongue as the archer had fully allowed for Iron Man to kiss him in whatever way he had wished.

"Find out everything there is about Clint Barton's mission tomorrow. I want to know exactly where he's going...who he's tracking...what's his mission when he gets there...everything," Tony clarified gravely as he decided against having another drink after all and instead began rolling up his sleeves to aid JARVIS in the extensive research he knew he needed to have completed before morning.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

_Thirty-four hours later..._

Agent Hawkeye ducked towards another vehicle totally rusted through on the ransacked city street which barely provided him enough cover, as the operative ignored the blood running down his neck from the cut on his cheek and tried to remain calm.

Clint Barton focused on the several enemies that still stood about fifty feet in front of his position, loud gunshots blaring through the stale, grey atmosphere towards his direction.

The blonde-haired agent took slow, measured breaths as his mind already calculated angles and distance between some of the decaying buildings around him and the seven foes that still had control of that area beyond the pass.

Clint's silver eyes shone with his stead concentration as he turned his head this way and that for only another moment, before suddenly standing up from his crouching position, his hands seeming as only a rapid blur in motion as the archer quickly shot four arrows, two of them towards a couple of the crumbling architecture.

Barton dove back down, not needing to see the destination of his arrows, as he could already know in his mind that the two arrows had successfully ricocheted off of the stone walls on either side of the street and had taken out the men in the back of the group that had the heaviest of artillery.

Hawkeye dashed towards a broken down bus, his ears hearing the cries of four of his enemy as they received his nearly invisible arrows and fell, and the archer used his moment of making his opponents have to regroup to move.

Clint easily scaled the bus and used the height to leap high and into one of the wide openings in the closest building, needing the height and cover that the vantage point provided him.

Barton's breathing had picked up, knowing that he could not stay in this spot for too long, as the blonde-haired male already strung another arrow within his bow and aimed at the center of the shouting remaining men.

Clint held his breath and released the taut line, sending the arrow speeding towards its target, and the S.H.I.E.L.D agent was already leaping into the next building.

The arrow was armed with an explosive and detonated upon impact, engulfing a sixty-foot radius in flames as more of the men he had been sent to eliminate howled as they met unexpected deaths.

Clint's bow was at the ready, waiting for the flames to clear.

Nothing.

Through the fading black smoke, Clint could not see the two men he knew had to have been left.

His calculations were never wrong.

His gut was even more reliable.

Silver-grey eyes looked to his left and right down at the war-torn street, but there was no movement, no one at all.

Suddenly, a loud explosion sounded at the concrete just below Clint's feet, rumbling the earth for a moment before the solid structure began to give way.

"...ugh...shit...!" Clint growled as he had drop from the opening in the wall he had just been looking out of, hanging onto the unsteady stones with one hand as his other gripped his treasured bow with the other.

The sound of men cussing in a language he did not understand caught Barton's attention from the building across the street, off of ground level like Clint had originally seen them which meant that they must have moved when the archer had fired off his first shots to create the confusion.

"Fuck..." the marksman muttered to himself as he bit down on the end of his arrow and bowstring with his teeth, aiming with a large amount of difficulty at a half-blasted monument that stood in between both sides of the street about one hundred meters off.

The shot was almost impossible as Clint tuned out the continuous shouting of the men towards him as they aimed their own firearms at him.

He needed to focus, focus his timing, focus his breathing...see the shot as it needed to be, as he steadied his single bracing arm that held the front of the bow and allowed for him to string the arrow tight with his teeth on the other end.

A bead of sweat dropped from his face.

Clint released the arrow.

One of the men fired their weapon.

"...ugh..." Hawkeye groaned in flashing, terrible pain, already hearing as the shooter voiced his own predicament before tumbling off of the ledge of the open-faced building, Clint's arrow having struck him in a fatal spot not even a second before the other man had fired his gun.

Barton knew that the fact that he had released his shot off faster had been the only reason that he had not also received a fatal blow and instead only received the flesh wound that now decorated his bicep in a sickening dark red that seemed to paint his entire arm with the shade.

Clint winced, his grip on his bow loosening due to the heavy blood flow and searing pain in his arm, as he finally released his hold on the stone wall and dropped several feet until his boots made contact with the shattered sidewalk.

The archer grimaced, trying to control his breathing, as he released a trigger on his bow that made the lightweight weapon collapse on itself so he may quickly replace it back inside the small pack strapped to his back, Barton knowing that he could not pull that kind of weight from the bowstring at the moment with his wound.

"There was another one...I need to find him before he alerts anyone else..." the S.H.I.E.L.D agent instructed himself soundly, peeking over the top of an overturned automobile, training his ears towards all the nooks and crannies that such a disaster-stricken area provided.

Clint Barton had been tasked with the mission of eliminating a small but effective terrorist group located just outside the border of Latvia.

The ragtag group of men from all parts of Europe had made quite a name for themselves, having become a rather large smuggler of heavy arms and weapons to other bigger organizations that were opposed to the United States.

S.H.I.E.L.D had caught onto their trail quickly as the terrorist group had obviously been too careless to learn how to cover their tracks in multinational illegal dealings, and the agency had charged one of their best assassins to eradicate them entirely.

Clint spit onto the ground as he continued to survey the area, seeing and hearing nothing that would give any information away from the last perpetrator he was current hunting.

Barton sucked in a deep breath, pushing his body passed its natural exhaustion and need to take another moment to inspect the severity of his wounds, as he suddenly shot up from his position and raced towards the opposite side of the street, heading straight towards the building that the enemies had been trying to safeguard.

The agent's senses remained trained on his surroundings as he raced across the street and entered the building, already seeing the ground level housing large, black crates with a strange logo etched onto their sides.

The symbol decorating the weapons crates looked looked like a skull with several tentacles swirling around it.

Clint committed the image to memory before going over the first crate, retrieving his long, machete-like knife located on the side of his leg and jamming the blade underneath the sealed lid.

With a mighty shove, Hawkeye pried open the crate with his knife, his eyebrows raising at what he found inside.

"These look like...machine parts...what the hell..." Clint muttered to himself as he gazed at the sculpted pieces of polished metal that were snugly fit inside the crate with plenty of shredded paper around each part.

Reaching into a side pocket located on his vest, the blonde-haired male hurriedly retrieved a small camera and snapped a few quick photos of the strange metal parts that were inside these crates that the terrorist group had gotten a hold of, knowing that this would be valuable information for Fury and the rest of the team.

Clint spun around in his place upon hearing the tiniest of sounds behind him, an inaudible breath of a noise that an untrained person would not have heard but Barton did as he was watching as four more men jogged to his location.

All were armed to the teeth and barking out orders to one another.

Clint could not speak their language, but his instincts knew that two would approach from the front, and the other two would remain around the building in case he tried to escape and the frontal attack did not work.

Classic strategy to entrap the enemy.

Barton broke out into a run towards the semi-shattered set of stairs, needing to gain more ground on the approaching targets as they barreling towards his direction.

Gunshots sang through the air as the men tried to kill the American male before he could get too far out of reach, Clint ducking down as low as he could as he climbed the staircase, his heavy knife in hand as he reached the second floor and immediately assessed his new surroundings so he could spot possible places to hide and exit.

Working quickly, Clint pulled out of his pants pocket a spindle of thin wire to which he began unraveling.

The second floor was littered with crushed but still standing wooden desk and chairs and various debris, the building having obviously served as an office at some point, and Hawkeye efficiently threaded a few lines of his wire from object to object, creating an invisible web to lie in waiting for the following men.

He could hear their footsteps on the stairs, cut the last of the wire, and then hide underneath one of the desks, steadying his breaths, readying his body to spring into action at just the right time.

Clint turned his head towards the center of the room, the grip of his gloved hand around the hilt of the blade tightening as listened to men continuing to chatter in their language to each other while they finally entered into the room and proceeding to tromp through just as quickly.

"_One...two..."_ Clint counted the seconds inside his mind, feeling the muscles in his legs tingling as he grit his teeth together and squared his shoulders, feeling ready to engage these men, _"...three..."_

One of the men fell heavily to the floor, the other shouting and turning his back to Clint's position so he may look upon his fallen comrade, and Hawkeye flew up from his spot.

The archer kicked the man's semi-automatic fire to the side hard and then jammed his knife through the enemy soldier's gut, staring at the burning hatred that slowly faded from the man's eyes before he slumped to the ground from Clint's hands.

The other opponent in the room was already getting to his feet and fired one round at Barton, missing as his shot had been hasty in heated passion and could only let out a shaky scream as Clint expertly threw his blade which caught the enemy firmly in his chest.

"Argh..." Clint voiced in horrible pain, feeling the wound on his arm stretch from the throw as he used his other hand to grip at the bleeding appendage, his vision swimming a bit and his head beginning to feel quite light from so much uncontrolled blood loss and strain as Clint closed his eyes and swayed on his feet for a second.

Clint dropped down to one knee, his body more than physically exhausted and in need of medical treatment as he continued to grip his hurting arm, trying to wriggle his fingers and feeling nothing but pain from the small action.

"...shit..." Barton whispered, taking deep breaths and willing his body not to go into shock as he had to keep a clear head, he had to make it out of this, he had to go back to...

"...Tony..." Clint sighed and opened his eyes, feeling an even sharped pang in his chest as he realized just how much he missed the dark-haired, sarcastic comment-making Avenger...wishing that he was with him right now instead of seeing through such a job.

Just then, the other two males that had been a part of the four-man team that the archer had spotted infiltrating the area busted into the same room, them having clearly left their positions outside upon seeing that their other comrades had not come out to join them yet.

Clint growled as he had no choice but to reach behind himself and retrieve his bow, the knowledge present inside his mind that his arm could not handle such strain at the moment...but he would be damned if he just rolled over to die without trying first.

The blonde male used the small window of time he had to fluidly draw an arrow back with his bow, Clint wincing and his vision spotting with black dots as the pull on his bleeding arm was almost too much for him to bear, before he released the deadly arrow and sent it flying straight towards the closest throat of the enemy.

The long, black arrow planted itself in the younger foe with a loud smack, sending him toppling backwards off of his feet.

Clint placed a hand down on the floor from his exertion, his heart beating rapidly inside his chest which had him panting for air, as he spared only a moment to watch as the last of the terrorists rushed at him in a blind rage, his weapons raised over his head as he yelled and ran across the room.

Clint drew another arrow from the slim holster on his back and stood up lightening fast, just in time to block his opponent's downward blow from the butt of his gun with his bow, Barton parrying the attack easily as he used his fee hand to try to drive the arrow in the side of his foe's neck.

The enemy dodged Clint's arrow, turning around in his place and swinging his gun at Hawkeye again.

Clint kicked the side of the gun but the opponent did not release it and instead attempted to aim it at Barton, firing uselessly passed Clint's side.

Barton stabbed the end of his arrow into the enemy's forearm, succeeding in making him drop the gun to which Clint hurriedly kicked it away from the two of them.

The opponent cried out in pain and slammed a solid front-kick to Clint's stomach.

The S.H.I.E.L.D agent coughed up some spit as his back his the floor, his whole body aching and his mind feeling as if it could not process any more requests from him at moment, enabling him to move even though his fighting instincts were telling him over and over that he needed to right away.

Clint placed a hand on his stomach as he slowly tried to sit up, only to have a boot press against his shoulder and shove him back down to the floor as the opponent loomed over Clint with malice in his eyes.

Barton blinked, his vision and senses failing him at an expedited pace, as he could only watch as the foe ripped out the arrow that had been embedded in his arm with an angry growl, and then point his gun directly at Clint.

The man yelled at him in his native tongue again, shaking the gun at him and Clint could only imagine that he was telling him how stupid he was, how careless...and how he was going to die.

Clint could have laughed at his situation if he had had the energy.

"...I guess I am careless...I should have know better...handled things better...I'm an idiot..." Barton repented out loud, not caring that the other male could not understand him and was only moments away from pulling the trigger and ending everything for him, "...and now...now I'll never get to see him again..."

The opponent grabbed onto the front of the agent's vest and hauled him up to his feet, Clint wavering in his stance as he blinked his eyes slowly while the enemy cocked the firearm and then took a few steps back, his back facing the large opening in the face of the building.

"Hail HYDRA...!" the foe spoke clearly, surprising and confusing Clint as the enemy clicked the heels of his feet together and then aimed his firearm again.

All of a sudden, with a thunderous sound and a blur or motion, the enemy was pulled outside of the building from behind, leaving behind a fading smoke trail that ascended in the grey sky.

Barton's eyes went wide upon seeing his executioner practically disappear into thin air, the agent lowering his hands, as he cautiously stepped to the ledge where his opponent had just stood less than a moment ago.

Clint placed a blood-stained hand against the blasted stone wall beside him, needing the support as his usually superb eyesight scanned the ground below and the skies beyond, finally seeing something catching a few hidden rays of sunshine as the object zoomed faster and faster to precisely his location in the building on the second floor.

Bright red and yellow gleamed against the colorless sky as Iron Man flew towards Clint Barton at a break-neck speed.

Clint's mouth dropped open upon seeing the one person he wanted to see most coming to meet him in such a place, the agent stepping back inside the building to allow Tony room to enter.

However, so much so fast, Clint's head quaked and his vision turned solid black as he lifted a hand to his eyes but quickly felt his world slide away from under his feet as each of his senses finally left him in a frightening rush.

Before he could hit the ground, the blonde-haired male felt two, large metallic arms gently wrap around him and hold him securely, preventing him from falling and shaking him lightly.

"Clint?!" Tony voiced in a panic as his face mask lifted away to reveal his worried expression and pleading eyes that hurriedly looked over each of one of Barton's unresponsive features, "Clint, talk to me! You with me, honey? Come on damnit! Clint!"

Hawkeye scrunched his closed eyes and cleared his dry throat, struggling to open his eyes.

Once his vision focused, he saw Tony let out a breath of relief, the inventor's own hazel eyes appearing glassy and full of pain, as Iron Man tried to be as mindful as he could while holding onto the beaten and injured form in his mechanical arms.

"Oh thank God, you're alright..." Stark whispered the words, freeing a hand and bringing it to the side of Clint's face, carefully wiping away some of the smears of crimson there.

"Thank God you got here when you did...I thought I was a goner..." the archer joked, leaning into Tony's touch and treasuring the safety he was able to feel from being so close to him as he was.

"Not on my watch, pal," Iron Man provided right back, smiling at the way Clint relaxed against his fingers, trusting him completely and needing him even more so, "...I had to come see you...make sure you were okay...I could barely stay away."

Clint smiled but then winced in pain, shutting his eyes and reaching a hand up to grab Stark's bicep for support.

Tony hesitated upon seeing such a heart-breaking sight, the dark-haired male feeling his gut twist horribly as he watched Barton fight with so much pain as he was.

"Widow, come in..." Tony spoke into the receiver located on his ear with a small microphone at his cheek, calling Clint's closest friend who has also come to Latvia with him in order to assist Hawkeye, "Natasha...get the plane ready. He needs medical attention now. I'm coming to you."

"Copy that...Tony...is he okay...?" Romanov had to ask regarding her closest comrade and personal friend from over the communication system.

Tony sighed silently through his nose, lowered his face mask, and then scooped up the blonde-haired male in his arms in a bridal-style carry.

"He's going to be okay...I'm not going to let anything else happen to him," Iron Man reassured both himself and the female on the other line as he fired up his suit and then flew out of destroyed building with his precious cargo in tow, heading towards the direction of the S.H.I.E.L.D plane as quickly as he could.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

"Talk to me. How is he?" Tony asked Bruce by his side as they both stood over Clint Barton as he lie sleeping on Tony's bed.

The genius billionaire had insisted that the master archer be made as comfortable as possible in his own chambers upon having had several hours of surgeries, a few of which Dr. Banner himself had scrubbed in and assisted.

Tony had spared no expense in flying out some of the top surgeons in the state to come to Stark Tower and see to his beloved blonde, needing to know that he was in the best possible hands when it came to his recovery.

"Well...so far, nothing particularly mind-blowing," Bruce began as he scanned over Clint's chart and read the diagnosis notes there, "...bullet wound in his right arm...no substantial nerve damage...he has a few broken fingers, his left shoulder was out of place when you brought him to us...other than that, he just needs to rest and recuperate."

Tony nodded, mindlessly chewing on his thumb nail while he listened to the news of his lover, the images still fresh inside his mind of the hell he had literally pulled Clint out of.

Bruce Banner replaced the pages back in order on that chart and took off his reading glasses, fixing Tony with a somber stare even though the inventor could not take his eyes off of Barton lying peacefully still amongst his sheets.

"The only real concern that we have about Clint is his blood loss...he was blown up, knocked around, and shot at, but because he went for however many hours without properly treating that arm, he lost a lot of blood, Tony," the seemingly mild-mannered doctor informed Iron Man by his side, catching Tony's attention as hazel eyes bore gravely into Bruce's stern, chocolate brown orbs.

"Make sure he takes these...no excuses, alright?" Bruce handed over a white bottle of pills to the philanthropist who accepted them and read over the label, "...they're to help him replace the blood he lost which will speed up his recovery."

"Understood, doc..." Tony looked up from the bottle with hope and appreciation in his eyes, "...thank you."

Bruce smiled and rolled his eyes lightheartedly.

"Oh, please...you would have figured something out if I hadn't," Banner spoke modestly, clapping Tony on his shoulder and then exiting the room to leave Tony and Clint alone.

Tony waited for the door to close before he stepped next to Clint's bedside and carefully sat down, watching over him and listening to the steady beeping of his heart monitor beside him.

A few days had passed since Tony had Natasha had brought Clint back to the Tower, the inventor having barely seen him during this time as Bruce had made sure that his treatment had been as swift and precise as possible which had made a swarm of doctors almost a constant sight around the injured archer for the first couple of days.

But now, there were no more doctors checking up on him and performing procedures, no more chaos and people and politics to deal with.

Now, Stark could just be with Clint.

"Hey, baby..." Tony spoke softly with a small smile curving his lips as he looked over Clint's features, feeling a certain type of depression manifest within him at the sight of the scratches and cuts that adorned the archer's handsome face.

The man of iron let his eyes trail lower, taking in the image of Clint's bandage-wrapped arm and braced fingers, several bandages also wrapped around Barton's torso, and Tony narrowed his eyes at the gripping sight.

"I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner...I feel..." Stark lamented thickly to the slumbering male before him, gently picking up Clint's hand and placing it in his lap, "...awful...I should have been there."

The dark-haired Avenger lowered his watery gaze and trailed his fingers along Hawkeye's bandaged hand currently being cradled inside his own.

"But that's going to change...you hear me, darling?" Tony turned his gaze back towards Clint, thanking God inside his mind that the damage Barton had sustained had not been more serious, that all he needed was bed rest for a while and that he would be okay, "...I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

Clint shifted slightly in his sleep, turned his head and licked his lips.

Tony smiled before freeing one of his hands and bringing it the side of Clint's face, tracing his thumb down the curve of his lover's cheek he had seen stained with blood only a few short days ago.

"_...my sweet angel..."_ Stark thought to himself as he brushed his fingers through Clint's messy blonde spikes of hair, _"...my sweet, deadly angel that took out a complete terrorist group practically by himself..."_

The genius billionaire had to chuckle at his last thought, smiling with happiness in his features as he leaned forward and pressed a delicate kiss to Clint's forehead.

With a grin on his face and a heavy weight settled in his chest, Tony placed Clint's hand back on the bed and stood up, taking another longing look at the archer, knowing that he would see him again soon but that it would not be soon enough.

Stark exited the room.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, Tony let out the breath he had not realized he had been holding.

"Hey Tony..." a voice sounded from Iron Man's left, prompting the dark-haired male to whip his head towards said direction.

Steve Rogers approached with his hands folded in front of him, a crestfallen look on his face as he inched towards Stark.

"Can I talk to you for a minute...?" Steve asked humbly, the first Avenger being respectful in his tone and distance that this was a particularly sensitive time for Stark.

"Yeah, sure..." Tony agreed easily, turning to face the superhuman before him who immediately relaxed upon hearing positive words from the inventor, "..what's up, Cap?"

"Listen..." Steve began slowly, pensively, "...I'm really sorry...about what happened. I was out of line and I wanted to apologize to you, and..."

"No, you weren't..." Iron Man waved off Captain America's apology, not needing it as he could tell already just how sorry the other man was for his actions, "...I accept your apology, Steve. I think we all weren't really thinking that day, so yeah...we're good."

Tony and Steve shook hands, the brunette nodding as the taller blonde smiled graciously at the billionaire's easy acceptance of their friendship again.

"So...how is he?" Rogers asked Stark about Clint's condition, the other Avengers having not been briefed on anything else except that Barton had been brought back alive.

"He's good...his arm is um..." Tony suddenly had a hard time talking about his lover's condition, seeing the image in his mind of Clint's completely bandaged arm from the top of his shoulder to the tips of his fingers, "...well, he obviously was shot during the mission, but he's going to be okay. Bruce said he just needs to rest."

The rest of Tony's words had been rushed out of his mouth, something that the Captain did not miss coming from the usually collected and cool genius heir before him.

"I see..." Steve sighed empathetically before turning towards Tony again and lightly knocking a fist against Stark's arm, "...well, if either one of you needs anything, don't hesitate to ask, alright?"

Tony smirked gratefully at Rogers' support, nodding his head before replying.

"Thanks Steve. As soon as he feels up to it, we need to have a team meeting," Iron Man responded sternly.

"You got it," the Captain agreed with a curt nod and a warm smile.

X

Several hours later...

Clint Barton moved his dry tongue inside his even dryer mouth, attempting to gather some moisture to coat his uncomfortable throat as he slowly opened his eyes.

The room was kept dim to allow the S.H.I.E.L.D agent hours of uninterrupted sleep, and for that, Barton was grateful as he let his eyes easily wander the expansive room he was in.

"Well, hello there, sleeping beauty," Tony spoke happily from his armchair kept a few feet from the side of the bed, the inventor resting his chin in his hand and his elbow on his knee as he peered fondly at the archer.

"...hi..." Clint spoke in a rough voice, prompting Tony to spring up from his chair to offer Barton a glass of water that had been waiting for him.

"Here you go...drink this, okay?" Stark spoke sweetly as he handed the glass to Clint with one hand and used his other hand to rub soothing circles along his lover's broad back.

Hawkeye first lifted his bandaged arm to take the water from Tony's hand, but winced upon feeling his stitches stretch, having to reach across with his other arm for the glass as he carefully sat up in bed.

Tony sat down next to Clint on the bed while Barton downed the glass of water, Iron Man being more than mindful of his lover's injuries as he looked over him with glee in his features.

The blonde archer was a little out of breath once he lowered the glass from his lips, fixing Stark with a serious stare from by his side.

"I've got to tell the team what happened on the mission," Hawkeye spoke solidly, as if the agent was not in any pain or discomfort at all, his lovely eyes fierce and certain as Clint stared at Tony.

Tony's lips parted in shock at such bold words from the injured male, before he retrieved the pitcher of ice water currently kept on the nightstand next to various other items should Clint need them.

Iron Man inhaled a great amount of air in thought while he refilled the archer's glass before speaking.

"I just don't want you to do anything too hasty, sweetheart. You still need to rest and recover a little more before holding a town hall meeting...alright?" Tony chose his words carefully, looking over the younger male's bruises that decorated one cheek and side of his neck, his bandage-wrapped arm being a constant reminder to the billionaire that Clint had truly survived a war-zone with a close call.

Clint took his time drinking his second glass of water, sloshing the liquid around in his mouth before swallowing a few times before saying, "But...I just...I hate being down for the count like this...and I have to get into contact with Fury."

Tony raised an eyebrow at the mention of Nick Fury's name, immediately understanding that whatever information Barton had...was gravely important.

"Alright...I'll make the arrangements," Tony agreed reluctantly, hurrying to finish his thought as he saw Clint smile at his wish being granted, "...but you are not to leave my side, is that understood? Not even for a minute...got it?"

Clint's smile grew across his face, the water forgotten in his hands as he peered with warm, grey eyes into Tony's completely somber features and hazel orbs that watched him steadily.

"Wouldn't want to be anywhere else..." the blonde male replied.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

_Later that evening..._

"...hope he's okay...didn't he just get out of surgery...?" Natasha Romanov asked the other Avengers as they assembled in the main common area of Stark Tower on the tops floor, the lone female leaning on her forearms on the bar towards the back of the room.

"I heard he defeated an army! All by himself, he took down a hundred foes who would have seen to his slaughter!" Thor vocalized energetically as he stood by the white couches that circled around the long, glass coffee table, not seeing as Black Widow rolled her eyes behind him.

"Barton's pretty beat up, guys..." Bruce commented gravely from the couch, sitting opposite Steve Rogers who could not help but listen adamantly to the doctor's words with concern etched into his features, "...he sustained a major wound and a few broken bones, so I'm not sure how..."

"How what...?" a familiarly upbeat voice sounded from the doors, catching everyone's attention as they watched as Tony had an arm wrapped around Clint Barton's waist and was currently helping him navigate into the room to join everyone.

Captain America stood up as he continued to watch them enter the suite.

"You're not so sure about how what, doc? About how amazingly awesome this man right here is...because he is and I can hardly believe it either," Iron Man finished addressing the rest of the Avengers with his usual sharp wit that had everyone in the room feeling a little more at ease with the situation.

Natasha rushed over to the both of them and wrapped her slender arms around her closest comrade's neck, being careful not to squeeze Barton or to bump his bandaged arm as Clint looped his good arm around her back to return the quick but meaningful embrace.

"...I'm so happy you're okay..." Black Widow spoke for only Hawkeye to hear, the both of them gradually ending their hug as Clint smirked at her hopeful expression, always feeling guilty whenever he saw it from her.

"Thanks, Nat," Clint spoke before turning his gaze to the rest of the team, "...listen up everyone, I have important news I need to tell all of you."

"We're pregnant!" Tony Stark announced jokingly, causing Natasha to glare humorlessly at him while Thor just looked confused, "...I'm just kidding. Go ahead, honey, go on, tell them..."

Clint rolled his eyes at his boyfriend before taking a step on his own towards the rest of the Avengers, Natasha and Tony at his sides.

"That terrorist group I had been sent to eradicate...they were shipping machine parts further west. I've sent the pictures I've taken to Fury, but here's what I found..." Clint spoke for all to hear before nodding firmly at Tony.

Upon receiving his cue, Tony said aloud, "JARVIS...if you'd be so kind..."

"Right away, sir," JARVIS spoke aloud in his pleasant British voice before uploading the files Clint Barton had input prior to the meeting for everyone to see, several blue screens popping up around the room that slowly cycled through the various pictures Hawkeye had taken during his mission.

The team members that had remained seated all stood now as the Avengers looked over the information.

"The group in Latvia had been just a middle-man for something bigger...that's why I didn't find anything solid, just the raw materials they were shipping to this organization..." Clint continued his presentation, and upon hearing the last word, all of the pictures being displayed switched to the one Barton had taken of the skull and tentacles logo.

Steve Rogers visibly stiffened and each Avenger standing around him noticed.

"What's wrong, Captain?" Tony asked the tall superhuman, the inventor having seen just how much anger had suddenly been etched onto the soldier's features upon seeing such an image.

"That...I know what this is," Rogers spoke gravely, locking his jaw and fixing Tony and Clint with a somber stare, "...did any of them say anything to you?"

"The last man I fought, right before he pointed his gun at my face, he said 'hail HYDRA'..." the archer reported dutifully.

Steve immediately turned his back to the front of the room and walked heavily towards the rear of the room, his head hanging low as he placed his large fists on his hips.

"What's the matter? Who is this HYDRA?" Thor's mighty voice boomed amidst the deafening silence, the god of thunder looking from the Captain's distraught form back to Tony and Clint.

"This is where Fury helped out...we pulled some more files about our new contender," Stark chimed in, ready to give JARVIS another instruction for what to display on the monitors, but a voice promptly cut him off.

"Don't bother," Rogers announced gloomily, turning around and lowering his fists down at his sides while he faced the rest of the team that watched him carefully, "...I've faced them once before back in my time. They operate under their leader called Red Skull. He was given the same thing I was...but it made him a lunatic. We can fight him."

"Well, that was basically what I was going to say anyway..." Iron Man affirmed with a clap of his hands, breaking the tension building in the room, as he gained the others' attention for how to proceed, "...we're going to break into two teams. First team is Bruce, Cap, and yours truly...second team, Thunder God, the little lady, and Clint."

Clint turned to face Stark, having not heard this part of his lover's plan before, as he cocked an eyebrow at such an idea.

"Team two, you are on reconnaissance for further information. We need to know these people's next move almost before they do. We need to know what those machine parts were supposed to build," Iron Man continued to plan out the Avengers' plan of action as he looked around the array of characters around him, "...team one...we're doing the heavy lifting. Alright? Everyone knowing what they're doing? Awesome. Meeting adjourned."

"Hawk..." the red-haired female addressed Barton by her side, prompting the blonde-haired male to turn towards her, "...don't feel like you need to rush into anything. You need to focus on healing first..."

Clint sighed, knowing that Black Widow was right, but the knowledge still did little to quell his aching pride.

"Yeah, what she said..." Tony added with a mock-scolding look he directed at Clint, watching as the archer looked beyond crestfallen and annoyed, "...your mission is to go back to bed and rest up so you can be some real use to us later."

"This is bullshit," Barton attempted to argue about his condition, stepping closer to Stark almost as if to challenge the dark-haired inventor, "...I'm fine. There was no need to put me on the reconnaissance team. I've already seen what kinds of material these people are moving, and..."

"And now thanks to your pictures, we've all seen it, too..." Iron Man cut off his lover with a cocky but well-meaning smile, "...listen, you need to rest. I know you don't want to, but you have to...have you even taken your meds today?"

At such a question, Clint lowered his shoulders, defeated by Tony's genuine concern for his well-being and overall nice attitude as he replied sheepishly, "...no."

"I've heard enough. Come along now. Nat, you're in charge..." Tony placed a hand on the archer's back and directed them both out of the suite and down the corridor.

"I hate it when you're right...I do feel kind of tired..." Clint admitted quietly, allowing the older male to guide him back towards their shared chambers, as he fixed Tony with a hard glare, "...but you had no right to just decide how I'm going to contribute on this mission...I want to...whoa..."

Upon hearing Barton's usually razor-sharp words trail off the way they had, Tony sprang into action, wrapping is arms around the archer's shoulder and waist the second Clint lifted a hand to his eyes and began to lose his balance.

"Alrighty...that's enough out of you...time for bed," Stark affirmed in his usually lighthearted but serious nature, giving Clint a strong squeeze as he proceeded to help his lover back towards their rooms.

"You're already helping out, sweetheart..." Stark reassured his lover, admittedly feeling quite proud of Clint forever being a soldier through and through no matter his own condition, "...and don't worry, you'll be back on your feet in no time...I'm making sure of it."

Clint breathed a soft smile and placed his uninjured hand on Tony's arm, stopping their movements as he turned to face the taller, darker-haired male, sincerity and something much deeper present in his silver-colored eyes as he looked up at the inventor.

Iron Man kept his hands gently holding Clint's waist, watching with half-lidded, fascinated eyes as Barton gripped at the fabric of his shirt with his fingers as he brought them closer together, never breaking their mutual stare as each remained totally focused on th other, both appreciating the other.

Clint and Tony's lips met in a careful, deliberate kiss, each man taking their time and displaying the utmost care for the other as Tony rubbed soothing circles with his thumbs against the younger male's hipbones, silently thanking God that Clint was in his arms and kissing him and was not still back in that damn country fighting for his life.

In turn, Clint's kiss told Tony just how grateful he was that he had been there when he had...and that he was still here now.

The archer purred softly against Tony's mouth, pressing their lips together one more time before Clint just barely pulled his lips off his lover's so he may speak.

"...thank you," Clint whispered' Tony knowing right away exactly what he had meant.

"You don't ever have to thank me for taking care of you...I told you, it's what I want to do..." Tony responded honestly before smirking cheekily and adding with a quirk of one eyebrow, "...now hurry up and feel better so I can ravish you."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

_Two days later..._

Natasha and Thor scrolled through another page of information on the computer screen, trying to match the insignias and designs from the machine parts of Clint's photos to other manufacturers.

"This is incredible...so far we've managed to track down who makes these machines and where they're located..." Black Widow spoke aloud as she continued clicking through various items on the page, "...if only we can find out where they were shipping them to."

"Indeed," Thor agreed, "...these were activist against your home land, so they were probably not headed to come here. The shipments were most likely due to ship further east."

Natasha frowned worriedly before bringing up another site to have JARVIS hack into, knowing that Thor's words were right which provided them another problem.

"But where?" the lone female Avenger voiced aloud, "...they could be anywhere by now and..."

"Try Germany..." Steve announced his presence as he walked towards the pair, his face drawn and serious as he continued, "...east Hungary...around in that area."

Thor and Natasha looked at each other before turning back towards Captain America as he stood behind them and looked over their research.

"That's where HYDRA was located the last time I butted heads with them...that'd be a good place to start," Steve explained, clipped and somber as well as quite grieved as he glanced between the two of them before focusing on the monitors again.

"...uh...you got it," Natasha agreed as she turned back towards her computer and began typing in the orders for JARVIS to search Germany.

X

Meanwhile, at another part of Stark Tower...

Clint Barton winced slightly as Doctor Bruce Banner unwrapped the last of his bandages from his hand, allowing the archer to flex his fingers for the first time since he had come back from his mission.

"So, uh...any pain? Tingling? Numbness? Things like that...?" Bruce asked the younger male before him, clicking a pen and jotting down a few notes on his clipboard for later reference on Clint's condition.

"No, not really...just a little sore," Barton reported, flexing his wrist a few times before waving his arm, testing just how much of his strength had returned to him already.

"That's normal. Knowing you, you'll probably shake that off in no time," the shy doctor commented with a lighthearted smile as he used his free hand to push his glasses up higher on his nose.

Clint chuckled at the good doctor's humor and lowered his gaze, seemingly thinking on something else despite his best efforts.

"Um...your uh...injury aside, can I ask you something?" Bruce asked the seated master assassin, gesturing to his recently healed arm that only required a few bandages now before lifting his hand to his face and removing his glasses whilst they spoke about a non-medical topic.

Hawkeye raised his spiky, blonde head in surprise, his storm-grey eyes peering up at the older male before him.

"Sure...yeah...go ahead," Clint agreed after a beat, genuinely curious as to what Banner had to say to him...but also hazarding a fairly well-educated guess at the same time.

Bruce held the clipboard in both of his hands, looking off to a side for a pregnant moment before turning his attention back to his patient and someone who was becoming a personal friend of his, sitting down back in his chair that faced Clint.

"...might as well just give it to you straight," Bruce said more to himself than to the black-clad male sitting silently in front of him before continuing evenly, "...I think you know how smitten Tony has become with you lately. I don't think I need to tell you that..."

The blonde-haired male could feel his cheeks turn pink in an instant, as the marksman swallowed hard and then looked down at his hands in his lap, thankful that he did still have all of his fingers in tact after his latest mission and quickly becoming embarrassed to reply right away.

Clint remained silent and Bruce took it as an opportunity to continue.

"Tony always kind of wears his heart on his sleeve, I guess...but what about you?" the timid but wise doctor posed such an insightful question back towards his charge, watching as Hawkeye slowly lifted his gaze back up as he pondered his words, "...where's your heart at?"

Clint took a deep breath and faced Banner, his embarrassment gone.

"To be honest with you..." the archer began speaking his inner-most thoughts aloud about the matter, things he had not even admitted aloud to himself but was now confessing to the man sitting just across from him "...Tony...scares me. I'm scared of what our relationship together might mean. I mean...up until a few weeks ago, I thought...I thought everyone hated me."

"Why would you think that?" Bruce asked quickly, puzzled, even though his voice was kept pleasant and calm while speaking on such topics with the typically reclusive young man.

"...because of Loki...because of what he made me do...I thought..." Clint admitted with weight in his voice, these words obviously being a lot harder to say than the last, and Bruce smirked sympathetically at the way Barton's shoulders seemed to drop and his blonde head hung low upon recalling such events.

"Cheer up, kiddo..." Bruce chimed with a growing smile, ruffling his hand through the marksman's messy locks of hair and prompting the latter male to lift up his head in embarrassed confusion, "...I can see why Tony likes you so much."

"Uh...r-really?" Clint had to give his head a few shakes to make sure he had heard Banner correctly, watching him with his naturally intent and keen gaze as the doctor stood up from his chair, replaced his glasses on his face and then took a few steps towards the door of the examination room.

"Sure," Bruce affirmed warmly, "...and it's not just me. Everyone is really glad that you're back, Clint. You have people here that care about you...namely the guy with his name on the side of this building."

"So...what do I do...?" Clint asked in a hurry once he saw that Bruce was already opening the door and taking a step outside to leave Barton alone to collect his things and exit as well, his check-up being completed.

Bruce smiled his natural, handsome crooked smile before replying.

"You'll figure it out...you're a pretty sharp guy." Banner answered simply, a friendly smile still in place before he closed the door behind him and left the archer alone.

Barton relaxed his tense muscles now that he was by himself, a sigh escaping him as he thought on Bruce Banner's words and parting advice to him.

"They all care about me, huh?" the archer spoke aloud to himself, thinking of Natasha's smiling face, of Steve, Bruce, and Thor; and finally, he thought of Tony Stark, the way the billionaire genius would smile so handsomely at him with his hazel eyes nearly sparkling with allure and mischief and possibilities...

Clint smirked.

"Then...I won't disappoint them!" he announced, grabbing his black, S.H.I.E.L.D jacket and racing out of the medical room to find them.

X

A little while later...

"Alright...let's expand image one-forty-three please..." Stark commanded his personal artificial intelligence system, which instantly made the selected photo-still zoom wide and flood the surrounding screens that flanked the large research room.

"I'm ready to go destroy something. Anyone with me? Huh? Who's with me?" Tony commanded the room with his effortless charm even though each attentive Avenger knew that the secretly distraught Tony Stark was serious in his suggestion.

Iron Man had been on edge ever since Clint had returned from his mission covered in blood and needing time to heal his wounds, and everyone knew that they could not blame the oftentimes loud-mouthed billionaire one bit.

Tony cared a great deal for Clint, possibly more than he had for anyone else in his life, and it had frightened him when he had rescued Barton that day on his mission, seeing him lose consciousness and going lax in his arms.

Tony dropped his hands, having wanted to help out the reconnaissance team to keep himself busy but was clearly not needed at the moment as Natasha and Thor had already gathered a surmountable amount of facts from JARVIS about territory out east.

They had looked into suspicious cargo movements and possible manufacturers out near surrounding countries, finally able to see where the two paths collided, which would be the team's next moves.

Just then, Clint rounded the corner and entered the room at a brisk pace, his black jacket left open as he first looked towards his left and then straight at Stark who was standing out ahead of him.

"Clint! Your bandages are off!" Tony exclaimed, his eyebrows raising in amazement as Barton continued walking towards him until he could wrap his arms around the stunned older male.

The inventor welcomed the embrace gladly, resting his chin against Clint's temple as he encircled his arms around his lover's shoulders carefully, wanting to squeeze him but knowing better not to so soon after Clint had just came out of the recovery wing.

"I missed you," Hawkeye admitted into Tony's shirt, his murmured words sounding as clear as a bell to the relieved Avenger as he looked towards a few others in the room who were casting a knowing smile their way at the scene.

"Aw...sweetheart...I've been right here," Tony cooed down to the handsome bundle in his arms, loving the fiery look still present in enchanting, silver-colored eyes as Clint lifted his head up and peered at the man of iron.

"...can we go somewhere more private...please," the marksman whispered to the taller, dark-haired man before him, his strong arms still holding onto Stark as he posed such a dleightfully loaded suggestion to the other.

Tony blinked once in awe, his knees having weakened for a split-second upon hearing Clint practically purr the word 'please' to him about going to his room, before he had to literally shake his head to focus again.

"Everyone..." Tony turned around with his usual gusto, addressing the rest of the team as he and Clint began to both inch towards the door, arms still wrapped around each other and Barton smirking devilishly, "...we're just going to...we'll be right back...don't wait up or anything; I mean, if you have something to do...yeah, okay...later!"

The door clicked close as they both pulled the other outside.

"Finally," Natasha rolled her eyes and looked back upon her work, not even having to notice the questioning look Thor was expressing beside her to comment to him, "...I'll explain it all later."

Steve smirked at the situation and ducked his head down.

At the same time, on the other side of the door, Tony had Clint pressed up against the wood-paneled and glass accented wall, their lips melded together in a passionate, building kiss that was quickly leaving the both of them breathless.

Stark's hands pushed Clint's black shirt up, Iron Man dragging his fingers along the muscled grooves adorning the younger male's smooth flesh, as he sucked on the archer's tongue.

"...mmh...I can't wait to get you alone..." the wealthy philanthropist growled against his lover's lips, lightly scratching his nails down Barton's toned abdomen, making the blonde male shiver and purr in cotton-soft pleasure as mercury-colored eyes, darkened slightly by the climbing intensity behind them, sought out sultry hazel.

"...no more waiting..." Clint's naturally velvet-laced voice felt like fleeting satin against the inventor's heated cheeks, capturing Tony's avid attention as the latter stilled immediately against the length of his lover's body so he may hear him continue, "...give me all of you, Tony...I want all of you..."


End file.
